That's My Baby
by PhoenixDiamond
Summary: One unpredictable night leads Tony into second guessing his irrational decisions for once and lands him taking care of a baby. A story telling how one small infant can bring the most unlikely personalities together. Humor. FrostIron. Now Mpreg. *On hold*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to Marvel Studios.

**Author's Rant**: Should've never watched this movie two times.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_He could blame no one but himself for this. He'd gotten himself into this mess and who's to say anyone would pity him? But then again, when it came to doing rational thinking before acting, he could definitely say that this was just fine._

_It was currently fifty four degrees, damn near close to ass freezing. Dressed inside a wool thermal, two pairs of tube socks and sitting close to a heater, the man was shivering. The air condition was purposely colder than a witch's tits and the fellow caught in the midst of this unfortunate situation was clutching balls that shrunk into a set of ovaries. Thoughts of his insanity being gone beyond reasoning were long sense established._

_He'd frankly lost his mind._

_So why was he sitting there rocking to and fro with a powder blue quilt and sitting in front of an open freezer? __Well, he had his reasons._

* * *

Anthony "Tony" Starks prided himself on being a man of all trades. A wealthy man, pulled up by his own boot straps into a recognized billionaire. A somewhat patient, calm, intelligent individual who could easily run circles around the smartest people in the world; then when it came down to always being ten steps ahead of everyone, he was pretty much flawless in that category.

However, today. Today was going to be one of the first of many where he discovers that not even he can predict the unexpected.

"I'm sorry, could you—could you repeat that. I think there was this buzzing, irritating sound of disbelief, floating round somewhere."

Pepper sat back against the maroon suave seat in front of her employer's desk, debating on a better approach to announcing her news other than direct. Bringing up her fingers to massage her favorite headache spot, Pepper drew in a low breath and released the rehearsed speech out slower and more comprehendible, "The birds and the bees were at play around sixteen weeks ago and—"

"Leave out the biological myth involved with the insects and raptors and get to the part that matters."

"Ok," She tried again. "You know when two adults get to know one another and it eventually leads to more cozy incidents where—"

"Skip about twenty years of education sweetheart."

"For God's sake Tony, I'm pregnant."

Tony paused, stared then suddenly reached inside his desk draw retrieving his transparent tablet, tapping in a few notes before glancing up to his assistant carefully, "I didn't know it was scientifically possible to be pregnant for 17 months, twenty nine days, and three hours."

"You want to add a few minutes in there?" Pepper straightened out her skirt, blowing out a short sigh. "You're going to make this difficult aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," The tablet returned to its hiding place, than Tony reclined in his leather chair, rocking back and forth on the support with both sets of finger tips tapping their opposite. "So, who's the lucky sperm donor? Any competition? Someone who can make me feel less of a man?"

Pepper thinned her lips, "It's been twenty five days since you've been back in office, and my private life is far from being priority right now. So, if it's at all possible to squeeze in your signature here, here and here, than we can take a break to discuss my life."

"How's about a trade?" Suggested Tony. "I sign three you give me the dirty. Seems fair enough."

"Not entirely. I'll be sacrificing my freedom of speech in exchange for paperwork."

"And America will appreciate you forfeiting your privileges in the name of gossip." Tony scribbled something close to a legible John Hancock on the first three, than pushed them to the side, resting his chin on top of braided fingers. "Ok, humor me."

"After ninety three signatures, I'll tell you the secret to life."

Tony had the nerve to frown at that. "I discovered the answer's aged Scotch extra dry, extra dirty, extra burn." Can't say he wasn't at least trying to get the information out of her. Pepper was a tough battle axe when she wanted to be. But then again, Tony wasn't so easy to give up. "Is he mostly human?"

There was a long silent, pause of debate on whether the answer was worth giving. Pepper shrugged it off, "About ninety eight percent of him is. Two percent is up for deliberation when he's in heat."

"Yeah, ok, marvelous." A hundred percent of that Tony could've gone without. "About those documents?"

Pepper smiled, dark eyes highlighting her red hair, "Yes, _we were_ talking about those weren't we?" She slide another handful of them, all turned to their desired blank spaces. Her finger pointed out all appointed areas needing a shade of black and blue ink, not missing a single mark. Safe to say they were going to spend the next two or so hours reading through and going over details, Tony was surely going to want confirmation on.

"Pepper," Somewhere between files twenty five and thirty eight—Tony miscounted when his palm cramped—he called his aid, not looking up. His serious tone did however draw Pepper's attention up to his creased brow, set in a focused row of wrinkles. "When are the dates?"

"May 19th 2012 and August 7th 2012, your invites have already been provided for both occasions."

Interesting. "What's his name?"

"Who?" Tony gave her a look. She smiled in return. "Promise not to laugh."

"Laugh?" After scratching down his name, the pen twirled between his fingers. A shaggy eyebrow arched and a peculiar grin spread his goatee. "I could use one."

Pepper chewed her bottom lip, tucking a lock of auburn behind her ear. "Elmo."

The silence to follow was deafening. It took close to ten seconds for that singular word to sink through Tony's unwavering skepticism. His mouth twitched, his eyes averted to the corner of his desk before falling back on Pepper's face. She was serious. "Elmo." He said more as a question.

"Elmo." She confirmed. "Elmo Valentine."

No. No, no, he wouldn't do that. It's too easy. Damn, too easy. "Occupation?"

"Librarian."

Strike two. "Age?"

"Thirty four."

Ok. He'll give her that one. "Hair color."

Pepper perked a delicate eyebrow. "Seriously?"

He cocked his own and waited.

". . . red."

Strike three. Tony looked up to the ceiling, blinking something close to a dose of incredulity, cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, all in single motion. His hand cupped over his mouth and dragged off the threatening smile. Almost. He needed only several seconds to collect his composure before dealing with this feathered issue daintily.

Pepper perched her elbow on the side of the armchair, cupping her chin as she deduced, "You're going to laugh."

"Laugh, who's going to laugh? I'm not laughing. I'm embracing amusement in the back of my throat." Tony shook his vocal chords loose with another clearing. "So you're getting married to a thirty four year old, red haired, librarian named after an outdated toy and a sexual holiday?"

"A popular puppet and Roman saint." She corrected.

"I'm wounded," Tony pressed a palm over his injured heart. "Insulted really. A billionaire owner of an international company, intelligence beyond that of Albert and can shoot lasers from his middle finger; versus Elmo, the thirty four year old, red haired librarian." He shrugged. "That's a direct attack on my manhood."

"A lethal blow for you," Pepper hummed amused, pushing another stack of documents forward. "Just a few more and you can go back to being hopelessly jealous."

"Jealous?" Tony shook his head, black pen scrawling his name over page after page. "Miss Potts, Tony Stark is many words, but jealous does not fabricate my character." Jealous. Him jealous? Miffed, a little stunned with a pinch of green eyed, but jealous? God forbid.

A lengthy silence hovered over that could only be described as intensified anxiety. On one end Pepper was between laughing or stroking Tony's bruised ego. Then there was Tony wishing he'd taken his glass of Scotch before coming to this "required" meeting his assistant had stressed him about. Important should have more than one definition. One based on actual informative necessity and the other pertaining to the shock that would come along with the information.

Pregnant. Damn. Pepper. His Pepper. The same knobby kneed girl with crab red hair and brown freckles was pregnant. Shit. How long was it going to take for that to sink in?

"Two more," Pepper leafed through the files for the final two sheets and laid them out. "Then you're completely free for the next couple of days."

"Fabulous," Snorted Tony. The next two signatures were even messier then the first million but Pepper would take it so long as she witnessed him doing the crime. "There, all better now. You need my seal of approval too?"

"Nope," She shuffled the stack neatly and propped them in a straight pile before standing, making her slightly protruding belly more obvious now that there was a reason behind it. "I'll give you a call should I need another day of Stark-Mania."

"My door's always open."

Pepper waved her good bye, storing the documents under her armpit, tracking for the door across the way. The click of her high heels echoed louder than usual for Tony.

So much farther away and twice as audible. It felt almost final.

"Pepper."

She stopped and turned, hand wrapped around the doorknob. "Yes boss?"

". . . Happy, content, delighted, ecstatic, cheerful, merry?"

There was a smile and a wink, "All of the above."

And he gladly returned it. "Good, go out and get yourself something pretty on me. Something that screams, I gained ten pounds, I'm looking forward to being psychologically unstable and couldn't be happier."

"Thanks, that did wonders for my self-esteem," She chuckled, tossing a final laugh over her shoulder. "Have a good night Mr. Stark."

"You too, Miss Potts." Soon to be Mrs. Elmo Valentine. What a name. "Jarvis," Tony called when he was sure Pepper had gone out of hearing range. "Analyze records for a Valentine, Elmo."

"_Already acquired sir. I retrieved the information upon hearing of Miss Potts engagement." _Tony refused to comment on that and waited for his request to be fulfilled. _"According to the New York public records, Valentine, Elmo is a thirty four year old, librarian, born in New Jersey, a graduate from New York University—"_

"Skip the sugar and get to the spice," Tony interrupted smoothly.

"_So far there aren't any indications of criminal record sir. As far back as the turn of his eighteenth birthday, he hasn't even received a traffic citation."_

He's safe than. Good. That was good. Pepper picked herself a decent fellow. Less worry on Tony's plate now that he knew the guy was nothing passed a puffball. With that out of the way, he had more pressing matters to address; one by the name of S.H.I.E.L.D.

* * *

Nick Fury was mad, he was pissed and quite frankly on the verge of cardiac arrest. A normal attitude this late in the evening in Tony's opinion.

The entire Avenger's gang sat around the transparent table in HQ, save for Thor and Bruce, both on personal missions home. Today's discussion was on a paranoid suspicion that there was a traitor amongst the operation, leaking secret information to a terrorist organization called HYDRA.

This really shouldn't come as any surprise since _it is_ S.H.I.E.L.D. The entire employment was paved of intelligent spies and crooked agents. It was their job to lie, cheat and kill. Couldn't get much more suspicious than that.

The mission: Seek and destroy the device being created from S.H.I.E.L.D's files pertaining to ultimate weapon to take over the world and knock out the evil spy. A rather cliché plan but one needing to be taken care of nonetheless.

"So are we all caught up on details or do I need to draw pictures?" Nick questioned, eyeing everyone pointedly.

"If you have the spare time," Tony piped up, swirling the golden Scotch in his glass. "Maybe a few colored ones too."

"Save the ass cracks for the bathroom Stark. I'm far from in the mood."

Naturally their leader wanted to share his piece on the issue and shifted around to face the others, "No one knows how lethal HYDRA operates is as much as I do. So just to be on the safe side, I'll volunteer to take care of this myself and the rest of you can follow up on obtaining the traitor."

Stark hissed a disagreed sound, "Yeah, uh no. Just to be on the safe side, I'll tag along and play sidekick to Liberty Man and figure a faster way to infiltrate the campsite."

Steve frowned, expression grim. "That won't be necessary Tony. HYDRA is—"

"It _will be_ necessary Steve because I know you." Tony stood from his chair, already heading for the door. "You'll crash in, announce yourself as the savor of all mankind, give a speech on evil wrong doers and wait for the enemy to return a long monolog about how he wants to molest you with a death beam." He reached the exit, looking over his shoulder. "I'll just be in the background, diffusing the Lucifer Cannon while you deal with the bad guys. Deal? Ok good."

"He's right Steve. Going in alone might be the advantage they predict," Nick surprisingly approved.

Natasha paused in wonder as her eyes followed after her teammate. "How did you know the name of the weapon?"

"Hacked into the system," Tony simply explained and stopped short, snapping his fingers. "Oh, you might want to rethink using Pentazole over Ethyl azide in Clint's arrows. Junior can't afford another diaper rash." The door slid shut behind him leaving a stunned group of people looking between each other.

Except Nick who was busily calling Hill to find the device used to filter out their data, again.

Clint sunk in his chair looking up to the dark ceiling, "That son of a bitch."

* * *

Safe to say this was going to be a very long night and getting longer.

Much to Captain America's wordy dispute on the subject, Iron Man refused to return any added say and just let his boosters do the talking for him already twenty feet above. After a couple of insults and man to man discussion on how irritable, irrational and irresponsible Iron Man was, the Captain concluded he wasn't going to win and Iron Man mentally tallied the score board in his favor.

The travel across the desert wasn't a long one. The night was cool, the sky clear and Iron Man found pleasure in teasing his leader for having to get a piggy back ride on their way. He vowed to take pictures and post them on Facebook for extra likes.

They arrived at HYDRA, did about seventy seven million dollars in technological damage, Captain didn't stray far from his script and neither did the enemy in charge. Iron Man nestled himself comfortably in front of the makeshift cannon supposed to bury half of the country in twenty feet of Winter—still confused on how this benefits the enemy but hey whatever stirred their pudding.

A couple of detaching tubes here, snipping of red and green wires there, a sprinkle of implanted viruses and just for kicks, picking up the entire weapon to discard about fifty miles away and blowing it up to pissed off HYDRA, finished up the night.

Captain American promised to return with more harm ensured but refused to kill off the enemy.

S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived an hour later to steal the glory and to give the super heroes enough time to escape the lime light before the media could get a chance to interrogate them.

Tony had to drag Steve away from the public eye and went so far as threatening him with the photos and video of him hollering at the top of his lungs something similar to a dog whistle during the rapid descent.

There was no further arguing from Steve that night. He didn't speak to Tony for two weeks. Tony appreciated the silence.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint had found the double crossing agent and politely kicked his ass through a five story window. Nick escorted the agent to jail himself, wanting some private time with anyone who dared to make him look like a fool.

* * *

Five weeks passed without an ounce of super criminal activity and to be honest Tony was flat out bored. Not even a high speed chase, a bank robbery or nada was heard over the police scanner. With there being nothing to occupy Mr. Stark's time, he sort out his second love: Tinkering inside his basement workshop, newly furbished and remodeled below the Avenger's Mansion.

Here was his toy land and he, their oversized tin soldier.

"A hundred bucks says I can get it working by lunch time."

"I'll take that and make it five. You can afford it." Clint said from up top somewhere, Tony couldn't figure out. Apparently a self-created nest. "Seriously? A bonafide villain detector? Nothing else better to do?"

Tony held up his bow torch, testing the flame strength, "Besides making your rash cream, no not really. By the way, apply to affected area twice a day and double if irritation continues." He flipped the mask down and went back to work.

"Really Stark, you're an asshole," Barton popped a green grape in his mouth. "How accurate?"

"Your ass cream?"

Clint choked on his grape, "The detector!" He snapped.

"Within half a mile," Sparks flew and Tony grinned behind his mask. "Gotta break records."

Clint whistled. "Hm, within half a mile? That five is looking like a nice grand."

"You doubt my abilities?" Tony muffled behind the mask.

Clint shrugged and chewed in thought for a while. From his perch he simply observed Tony hammer, drill and quietly fuss over the square shaped device, at times even tapping the thing. "Yo, you ever think about that fight we had with Loki last year?"

"I try not to dwell in the past," Because if he did, he'd remember every blonde, brunette and ginger he'd ever slept with. That could turn messy. On a serious note though . . . "Yeah, I do. Can't help but reminisce about the good ole days."

"Did Thor ever say what Loki's punishment was?"

"Negative," Tony pulled back his mask, wiping a greasy hand over his cheek. "I tried to get it out of him twice and even bribed him with a box of pop tarts. He wouldn't budge."

"Were they strawberry?" Clint asked like it mattered.

"Yep, extra filling," Tony dubbed the instrument in need of more tuning and reached for a monkey wrench. "It's a touchy subject." It really was. Whenever the subject was brought up, accidental or for laughs, Thor would disappear from company. His mood would change so drastically that the gloomy vibes would devour the mansion in clouds of gray. It'd been agreed not to talk about the subject of his brother and to change the discussion to something else. He'd caught on to the attempts and smiled sadly, praising the team for their efforts and saying they didn't have to change their conversations for him. He'd be able to deal with the matter in due time.

But they still refused to say anything about Loki in front of him. "It must've been pretty fucked up," Clint figured. "Maybe that's why he doesn't talk about it." Balling up the empty bag, Clint stuffed it in his pocket and rolled under the bar rile, landing on his feet next to Tony's work table. "I'm about to head up for a while. Nick's riding my ass about patrolling the new campsite."

"Tell him that rash's contagious." Tony called to the exiting man as he disappeared in the elevator. Clint flipped him off right as the double doors closed.

Now alone, Tony had some time to reflect on his own thoughts and take a break from this pointless project. He knew the thing wouldn't work. How silly was it to come up with something this comical? No, it was just something to play around with to keep his mind from doing what he hated most.

Contemplating about personal issues, over himself or anyone. Because of Clint, Tony wondered how the big blond god was doing when alone or when he went back home to Asgard. Was he just as troubled over his brother's wellbeing or wanted to stay tight lipped about the entire thing?

Who was to say? In the end, no matter how long it took, Thor would eventually get over what'd happened. Hell Tony was getting over some things himself. If he could do it, he was pretty sure Thor could too.

* * *

"God damn it." Tonight was supposed to be a five hour attempt on some decent sleep but no, Nick Fury had other plans.

A single bleep had appeared on radar a good seventy miles in the middle of New Mexico. It couldn't be a UFO like any other possible nerd would think. Nick assumed it an immediate to earth's population and demanded Stark be the one to patrol the site until he could get some men out there. Stark protested, he was pissed, but Jarvis had already set the suit up for him after the call had ended.

"_Sir, we should be approaching the appointed site soon. Landfall is scheduled fifteen point three minutes."_

"Lovely," Yawned Tony. "Any signs of life wandering the perimeter?"

"_Scanners aren't indicating any danger besides the desert wildlife."_

"What? No power hungry, humanoids hell bent on world domination?"

"_No sir," _Jarvis replied_. "Sorry there isn't much to give your evening more meaning."_

And Nick was worried? "Damn, remind me why I'm out here again?"

"_To investigate possible celestial life forms and confiscate any evidence for—"_

Tony sighed, annoyed. "That was sarcasm Jarvis."

"_Of course."_

Tony disconnected the link between him and the drone for a few minutes, mentally collecting the remnants of his mind that wasn't left back on his pillow at home. All he wanted, for once much to his own shock, was to sleep. Just a few hours, if only three, he wanted a decent shut eye. Wasn't he entitled to some form of rest? It wasn't as if—"Holy Shit!"

All mental complaining aside, Tony nearly lost half his entirety when his HUD flooded with unnatural readings and the surge of shooting fire came barreling down from above. The speed forces boomed loud enough to ring through Tony's armor and propel his body twenty meters back. He connected Jarvis back on line, as he immediately followed after the trail of comet fire heading straight for the earth's surface. "Jarvis, run protocol zero-nine-dash-two-six, and install rocket projection."

"_Already initiating notification sir."_

Looks like Nick wasn't hyped on paranoia after all. Boosters energized to half max, sending Tony in a spiraling spin fall, uni-beams expanded and prepared to take out the object soaring fast. "Jarvis what's the scan?"

"_Massive readings of hydrogen, helium and nitrogen are emitting from the center of the mass in a standstill sir and . . . this may come off as odd but there appears to be a pulse."_

"That thing's alive?" Tony questioned, stunned. The—whatever was about two minutes from impact. "Enhance visual."

"_Increasing visual status to two hundred and fifty percent."_

The HUD screen quickly amplified through five visual modes before the streak object could be seen. "The hell?" There was something—something squirming in what looked like thin fabric. There was no describing what he was looking at, nor time to be logical about his next move. "Jarvis engage maximum acceleration to Mach three."

"_Sir, you're too close to ground level, such an increase in velocity could damage_—"

"I know the risks. Just do it!"

Iron Man shot off with a boom. The ground shook and the armor rattled. This was dangerous, it was reckless. But hell he'd done much worse. The rapidity took him for a savage nose dive, arms clamped to his sides, in a torpedo form. He was gaining on the flyer, he was getting closer. He reached out his arms, only a foot away.

"Come on," Tony reached, he reached, just a little more, so close. "Got cha!" He enclosed his arms and waited. A split second and titanium was a skirting, flopping tangle of metal. Impact was harsh, the pain dulled my adrenaline. Bone deep agony roared like spit fire as Tony gritted his teeth, unconsciously clutching to the object to his chest.

The powdered sand was his bedding as he soon came to a sliding roll on his back, facing the clear night. The shock drained, realization slowly presented itself and all Tony could do was chuckle like a maniac. "Damn near lost it that time," he grumbled, looking left than right. He grunted sitting up the best he could. "Jarvis, detail damage report in full."

"_General repairs are minimum sir, uni-beams are still at great condition and the exterior is dented. Thrusters are at fifty seven percent, just enough for a safe ride."_

"Great, great, I think I broke a personal record for reckless endangerment." Still have to remember that skin can only do so much for alloy contact. Tony sighed, thanking his lucky stars that he'd been in the middle of nowhere when he impacted. The whole field was a jagged crater. Had it been Manhattan, Nick would've been hospitalized.

On a brighter note, he caught the thing, which was still moving around despite the heavy slam.

Tony flipped back his face mask and sighed. "Ok, so, let's see what nearly got me killed shall we?"

His hand hovered over the sheet. But it moved and wiggled again. Tony frowned, leaning away cautiously as he debated on taking more risks tonight before the decision was made for him.

The sheet kicked to the side. A tiny _blue_ foot popped out. His eyes grew impossibly wide. A _blue_ foot.

Curiosity ate Tony alive when the flimsy, linen tossed and flopped back over the thing. Tony's fingers caught on and pulled away and if at all possible, his eyes stretched.

Dark, red eyes swam in tears and skin the shade of the richest cobalt blended in with the coiling blanket as it squirmed and whimpered. It was, it was a—holy rays of shit.

When it looked up, a pair lust red eyes focused on him solely and for a moment Tony only stared back, stunned stupid.

_Ah god damn_.

**~The child isn't Loki folks~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to Marvel Studios.

**Author's Rant:** Thanks ya'll for real. You rock my nuggets. Mild Angst.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Dawn broke over the horizon; corals blemishes, lavender hues and pinkish swirls jagged the sky like a subtle stab wound. The desert was cold, it was empty. There was nothing but the breeze giving it mobility and the tornadoing anger of a villain levitating above a sunken crater.

Loki's sturdy gaze, sweep over the only evidence of where there'd used to be what he was searching for. The pit was vacant. His expression grew grim.

One side of his face burned with the sheet of red, the burning blood dripping off his narrow chin. Wounded and treated like an abused dog. His retribution trial had come and pasted. Flogged to within the inch of his life and the proof would remain until he could gather enough magic to restore his body to its formal glory. For a full earth year, day in and day out the punishment was carried on, with only an hour in between to rest before fatigue claimed him from the brutality.

Not once had he did not cry out. The slicing crack of the adamant whip threatened many times to ring it from his bloodied lips, but he held firm. He wouldn't dare give their ears the satisfaction.

Allfather thought banishment too much of an escape from his crimes. To strip him of his magic would be as if ripping his very flesh from his bones, for the illusionary works were apart of him. So that only left physical torture, in which case was of the highest honor for the still crowned Prince of Asgard.

Loki would heal in time. He'd been through worse. The skin tore, the blood seeped through his armory, sticking the leathery cloth to his bare flesh like a clammy flakes.

He was likely to be punished again for breaking Asgardian law once more. Escape from his cell was laughable. The guards were too easy to subdue and avoiding witnesses was child's play. Heimnall had been slightly complicated getting around but like the others, he too fell to Loki's illusions.

Now here he stood on Midgardian territories.

The pads of his boots touched down on the gritty sand edge, hardened from the heat where the hole was bigger than necessary. The child was far too small to create such a hollowed opening. Peculiar. Loki jerked from the stretch of his stride, aggravating the wounds near his thighs but he managed to land in the center and kneel over the precise middle, waving a plume hand of green.

He recalled through his mind's eyes all that occurred. Within seconds he was half aware of the events that'd taken place. Weakness forbidden him from knowing the full truth, but enough of it was more than he needed. "My little one, how far you've gone," He whispered into the winds, patting over a circled imprint.

The remnant magics were faint and so distant. Loki could barely make the little one out. Trails of icy residue taunted him overhead in a way that made him wonder and quickly realize. Someone had the child. Someone had taken him or interfered when he'd come through the Bifrost.

Loki sighed, looking up to the stars and closing his eyes, "Zephyr."

Damn.

* * *

"The hell is it?"

Tony was still trying to figure that part out. There definitely wasn't going to be any sleep tonight, tomorrow, or within the next seventy two hours. Too much adrenaline was electrifying his nervous system like a desperately needed shot of Scotch. It was well past pissed o'clock and when he made the call in to the rest of the team, they hadn't too pleased to be awakened at this ungodly hour. He'd been far from giving a shit. Finding a naked baby alien was a priority passed beauty sleep.

When the crew was waiting for him as he landed on the balcony, Tony had discovered along the way that touching the child's bare skin came with mild consequences. When he removed his metal glove to check the child for injuries, his fingertips chilled straight to the bone and the skin prickled goose bumps. The child actually emitted an air of cold from his pores like water through fish gills.

The warning was given to the team when he placed the baby the bar table, wrapped tight in the only thing immune to its body temperature.

"What are we supposed to do with it? It's obviously not human," Steve said from his end of the table.

"What was your first clue?" Tony boringly questioned as he wrapped a warming ointment on his ice burned hand. "The blue skin, red eyes, or frost bite?"

Steve gave him a look, but ignored his sarcasm in favor of examining the alien child closely.

Clint kept his distance, looking from the couch with a newspaper in his lap, "The kid's not yours is it Stark? We all know how you like the exotic ones."

"Afraid not Barton, but that cream sure is looking like a distant memory. Hope you wrote down the ingredients."

Clint paled.

"Excuse me," Natasha cut through, walking around the infant carefully. "We need to get a read on this child to classify its inter-galactic heritage."

"How? As soon as you touch the thing it freezes. You know any way of getting around that?" Steve asked.

"We'll have to ask Banner when he gets back," Tony said, dropping down in the stool directly beside the baby. "He's more in tuned with elemental compounds than me and medically, he's got me beat. Jarvis got the analysis of the three coldest elements circulating in this thing's aura scan. Bruce might be able to determine its whereabouts or at least how to get near it."

"Hm," Natasha hummed, perking her lips in a thinking pose. "Are there any elements capable of countering any of the three?"

"Besides your attitude," Tony exclaimed, unfazed by the deadly glare of one killer spy agent. "Nothing I can think of off the top of my head. Most of my mind's scrambled from lack of sleep."

Steve folded in his arms, "I've told you time and time again to get rest but it's like nothing I say gets through that head of yours, Son."

Tony barely acknowledged the comment since his focus was revolving around the wiggling thing on his bar stand. It hadn't cried as normal babies would. It just waddled plump arms and legs in the air, reaching aimlessly for nothing. The way it looked was similar to a human infant—minus the obvious stand out features such as dotted tattoos, skin and eyes.

"Should we phone Fury about the child—alien—it?" Steve stubbly worded. "He might have more information on the species or planet it came from."

Clint folded his paper, calling over his shoulder, "Nick's on duty with the council until Monday. Contacting him would be pointless. We're on our own."

A snorted grunt came from Tony's end as he looked between the crew, "So what are we supposed to do with it in the meantime?"

Running a tired hand through his sleek blond hair, Steve blew out heavily, rocking his neck from side to side, "Why not keep it here until Monday? It's only a couple of days."

"Who's going to watch it?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, growing annoyed with the _it_ label. She was the only one daring to reach out, lift the icy silk and blinked, leaning in closer, "_It's_ a boy gentlemen," She concluded, running her palms together to diffuse the chill.

"Really?" Clint piped up. "Aliens are loaded too?"

"Gender status now informed, that doesn't help with figuring out what to do with it?" Tony looked from the blue infant to the Avenger's team, quirking an eyebrow to them all in turn.

Steve stared around too. "Anyone got a clue on caring for babies?" This specifically appointed for Natasha who greatly disappointed him with a head shake.

"Sorry, I've never been mother material." She bravely confessed, folded arms in place.

Tony stared. "You can reproduce?"

Clint choked behind his newspaper, disguised as a cough.

"All joking aside Stark, there's an innocent life here," Tony stepped back, both hands held up in defeat. "Sorry to say but I'm far from knowing how to take care of a baby alien. Shoot, I'm still learning how to work the microwave."

"And I just don't want too," Grunted Clint. "Hell, you found it. You take care of it."

"Good idea, Stark's more acquainted with all the techno-knowhow and biology stuff. He'd be perfect for it."

Tony, who'd been closely watching the baby's exterior and gurgling activities, suddenly got the feeling all eyes were on him and looked up to find his suspicions correct. "I'm sorry? What?"

"You watch him," Steve beamed as if the idea were the most obvious.

"No, I won't watch him, because I'm a very busy man," Tony argued firmly. "Running Stark Enterprises, being Iron Man and maintaining a nightly reputation isn't easy. How do I look caring for it?"

"Like a chick magnet," Clint stood up stretching, yawn his defeat to fatigue. "Get with the program Stark. Ladies love single father men."

"Then you take it."

"Ladies like single father men with normal babies," Natasha corrected as she walked towards the entrance too. "You'll only have to care for him until Sunday, Stark. Bruce should be back home tomorrow night. Taking care of a baby for one day won't hurt your stimulated ego."

"I beg to differ young lady," But his end of the protest went unanswered and honestly he was too tired to care at this point.

The only remaining team member seemed to hesitate with deciding on what decision was best to go by as he glanced at Tony, the baby, than to the closing elevator doors. Steve blew out hard, scratching behind his neck, eyes glued to the carpet as if it might hold the answers to his dilemma.

"You can leave on a clear conscious Super Soldier," Tony drawled, from the counter. "At least you attempted to give a damn." He circled around the bar stand and opened the mini fridge storing a large bottle of Mallan 18 until the glass fogged with its bronze color. Sadly it hadn't been in the chiller long enough to get that much needed cool but oh well.

"Are you sure, I could stay a little longer," Steve made to step forward until Tony shook his head.

"Oh no, no, no, me and junior will be just fine," Tony suddenly got an evil idea and held his glass over the baby's belly, watching the condensate embrace his glass before his eyes. He removed the cool liquor, seeing the wispy cool mist erupting from within and grinned from ear to ear. "Oh yeah me and the kid will get along just fine."

The baby giggled, reaching for the frost over alcohol. That worried Steve. His concerns only worsened when his teammate promptly left the child on the counter to walk around to the side counter, retrieved a magazine from a basket and began to read . . .

. . . leaving the child lying there, unwatched and unfed. "Stark."

"Hm," Tony looked up from the pages. "You still here? I told you I got the brat."

"Are you sure," Steve punctuated each word with firm, blatant bother. "I can keep company for a while." Even though he knew his presence would likely cause more harm than good.

"Well, unless you want to learn the five W's about babies than—"

"I'll give you a call," Steve perturbed, turned on his heel to leave, refusing to let the rest of that sentence bleed his ears any redder. He pressed the elevator button and was through the doors before they were a foot open. "Seriously Tony," He turned, facing the other carefully. "Let us know if you need any help."

"Sure, help, got cha." Tony waved off.

With a lasting look drifted over to the whimpering baby, Steve let the gaze cut off as the doors took him to lower levels of the mansion.

Tony waited five minutes for good measure before deeming the entire vicinity sky free of the self-righteous leader, slipping off the stool and padding straight for the bedroom.

"_Sir, aren't you forgetting something?"_ Jarvis beeped in. "_The child isn't old enough to walk on his own_."

"I'm sure he can manage, being all compounds and baby fat."

"_Please consider this matter seriously sir—"_

"Keep an eye on the rugrat would you Jarvis? I'm going to get some shut eye." Tony disappeared behind closed doors, locking out all disturbances and last night's previous events up to when Steve had left him alone. A single goal was on his mind and it dealt with him getting some sleep. He'd deal with the yesterdays, tomorrow—today, whatever.

Tony splashed arms and legs all over the king sized mattress, sleep immediately claiming him.

Please let him get at least three hours.

* * *

There was something to the similarities of high pitched banshees, car sirens, the scratching of nails on a chalk board and crackling of thunder. Tony wanted the dream to be over. Slicing shrill blades wagged a winning battle against his eardrums and god help him, he just wanted to die slowly. Defeat was inevitable. The nightmare was endless, the blaring sounds chaotic. When would the fucking agony end?

An ear splitting alarm showered the bedroom in mayhem. "God damn it!" Tony shouted, bolting out the bed frantically for a pair of pants he was already wearing. He scoured the room out of control, tangled in sheets and delirium. "Jarvis—shit Jarvis lights!"

Lights were smoothed on, yet the alarms were still blaring something serious. Oh shit. "Jarvis set up code Delta-November-Echo-Nine-Three. I want the whole fucking tower lit like a Four of July." Tony fell over something but kept scrambling everywhere. "Have the team assembled for direct assault; get a message out to S.H.I.E.L.D. that unfriendlies have infiltrated the Avenger's Tower. Jarvis, details on the enemy stat—"

"_Sir, I do apologize for the inconvenience but we're under no threat."_

Tony paused in the midst of getting the Hulk pissed, eyeing the swirling lights, danger décor and other fright accessories, "Then why are we—Jesus, turn off the alarms!"

Once all protocols were secured, Tony shuffled his feet across the carpet sleepily, flopping on the edge, squeezing the heart attack out of his eyes, "Jarvis."

"_Yes sir, I've been trying to alert you of the child's health status. He seems to have gone into a feverish state. Temperatures are steadily rising above normal body temperature, his size is shrinking."_

"Ah damn," Tony sluggish stood, not making any extra efforts to hurry off to a non-emergency. The rest of the information was drowned out through a grizzly yawn as he slowly—very slowly made his way to the living room bar stand. Jarvis was in dire need of an upgrade if this was why he'd woken him up. Kids get fevers all the time, take a shit and are well enough to stuff marbles up your nose by morning. It happened all the time. He didn't see the big deal here.

Dressed in nothing but a black tee and navy star boxers, Tony stared stupidly drowsy at the bar stand where he'd last placed the baby. "Jarvis, time."

"_6:37 a.m."_

Four in a half hours eh? A new record. Tony walked to the counter, looking—looking strangely over the counter and noticing there being nothing but a tiny lump under the ice silk. Tony blinked, surprised, searching around as sleep left his body in panic waves. "Shit!" He checked the floor, the cupboards, below deck and even in the fridge. "Jarvis where's the thing!"

"_Still on the counter sir, he's under the blanket."_

Oh right. Tony quickly grabbed an oven mitt, carefully lifting the sheet, in a total jaw dropping shock as he gazed at the—barely there alien baby— no more than the size of a his hand. He blinked, observing, mentally questioning, pondering what'd happened. The alien was shrinking. He was getting smaller. Why? On closer inspection he could see watery crimson gloss leaking from the child's eyes and lips chapped from lack of moisture.

He'd gotten so small; his skin was dried and flaked. What the fuck?

The little blue born, glanced up to his savor and whimpered, too weak to wail or cry his pains.

Tony was so lost. "Come on buddy," Without thinking, he reached out and cupped the child in his hands, hissing from the frost burn. "Come on, come on," he held it out from his chest, looking helplessly around for help but remembering he was alone. "Jarvis, call for someone. Anyone!"

"_Already alerted sir. Captain Rodgers is on his way."_

Good, good. In the meantime he needed to figure out what to do. The skin chill wasn't as pronounced as before, but the sting of prickling ice remained. He paced back and forth in the kitchen, mind conducting solution after solution. Then something felt . . . off under his palms. Tony looked down worried. He shifted his hands to the side, frowning at the sticky perspiration collecting and frowned. Sweat? The child was sweating with dried skin?

Sweat. . . sweat. . . getting smaller. . . as if melting.

Of course. Nitrogen, Helium, and Hydrogen.

Cold. He needed cold. "Drop the room temperature the lowest I can withstand, Jarvis. I need it ass-itching cold in here fast." Tony hurried to the refrigerator, ripping the door open and sitting at the base, turning the notch to the coldest setting. He found a tray of ice cubes and dumped the entire dozen under the silk sheet. Lucky kid. The ice blanket seemed to retain a natural hyperborean. "Alright, rugrat, get it together," He rocked back and forth to the effect of what he assumed was right, while wrapping the blanket around the cold skinned baby.

Ok all he needed to do go was procreate a decent enclosure for the alien in order for him to return to normal size. If his theory proves correct all he has to do is get the kid's temperature below freezing and maybe he'll grow back in size.

Tony could only hope this worked out the way it did in his mind. Alien or not, he didn't want a dead baby's carcass on his conscious.

The window panels were fogged to the rim. The environment grew colder. Chilly enough to make Tony's balls sink and holy damn were his toes on the verge of snapping off. Teeth were chattering, his body temperature was desperately trying to fight off the sudden outer change and through it all he made sure to keep a firm watch over the baby's condition. Differences weren't visual yet. There didn't seem to be a bodily change either. Tony sighed, sitting as far as he could into the ice box, bouncing the baby from side to side.

He smashed against something soft.

Someone was going to be pissed about their ham sandwich. A nice ass print was dug right through the zip lock. Oh well.

"Getting nippy yet?" Tony playfully asked the infant. The icy silk sheet wrapped every corner of the child's body from eyebrow to toenail. Within minutes, the entire level of the upper room misted, the vents released subtle white puffs and so did Tony's nostrils. He was freezing his ass off. This theory had better be accurate.

There didn't feel to be a noticeable difference. The baby's body still felt small between the crooks of his arm. Tony chanced a peek under the cover to see innocent scarlet crinkled and upon see his face, the baby whimpered and started to cry. A reasonably audible cry too.

Tony didn't know whether to be offended or relieved. At least the brat was cooling down. The burning contact was started to become less tolerable.

Suddenly the elevator doors slid apart and out popped the Captain in his full American glory. "Stark, Jarvis called. What's wro—Good God its freezing in here!" Steve jumped back into the metal box, rubbing his hands over his arms. "Stark, Stark!"

Tony only stared. Even under covers Steve sported the Land of the Free loyally. A pair of stars and stripes cotton pajamas hung loosely off the leader's hips. God bless America indeed. "I-i-in he-e-re." Tony cleared his throat, and tried again, "Here!"

Steve jogged over to the kitchen, kneeling by the open chiller. His blue eyes clearly read psychotic. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing?"

"F-f-freezin-g-g m-my nuts off."

"Tell me there's a reason behind this insanity," Chuckled Rodgers.

A mile wide grin split Tony's shivering face, "B-brat's g-g-got a f-f-fever." Tony shaking uncuffed his hand and pointed down the hall. "Hea-a-a-ter an-nd ther-r-rmals."

Steve understood immediately, running down the halls to collect the goods. Tony got a kick out of seeing Liberty Boy trucking down the hall fast, clapping his hands and huffing loud. A military brat true to form. By the time he came back with the needed materials, Tony was a wreck.

Steve dressed himself in a thick windbreaker and sweats—both obviously not his. Under one arm he carried the tiny heater and in the other, a large quilt and a pair of brown thermals. He didn't bother asking Tony if he could dress himself. Steve just plugged in the heater, practically shoved the clothes over Tony's head and dunned the quilts over his shoulders. "Better?" He asked.

Tony's teeth clattered something awful, but he nodded, rocking back and forth. The little baby was kept on the outside of the warmth and away from the heater. Tony wasn't up for staying in this wintry tundra any longer than need be.

Out the corner of his eye, Tony could somewhat make out Rodger's outline hunkering by his side, "Need me to have a go?"

A snort, "I-I-I got it," Tony said.

"Are you sure? You look worse for wear, even for you Stark."

Tony's glare made the room grow colder. Steve chuckled.

There was no telling how long he stayed that way or whether the child was making a healthy recovery. Much of the movement was in his body rocks and trembling limbs. Time and time again Steve asked if he wanted to switch out, but Tony refused. Don't misunderstand. There was no other worldly, signature bond between Tony and the kid. It's just . . .

Guilt was a wicked son of a bitch. It had this nagging way of making you feel so beneath common sense. The baby's deterioration was his own fault; Tony was man enough to admit he fucked up. And when he messed up, he fixed his own problems. Simple as that. But no one said correcting mistakes would be easy.

"How is he?" Coming from his pace trail, Steve kneeled by the pair, peeking over at the unseen lump. When he got no answer other than piano clicks, Steve looked up to Tony's near blue face, and wide eyed expression, "Stark seriously I can take over for a while. I'm pretty sure the little rascal won't mind if I hold him."

Tony had the nerve to laugh, "L-l-little rasc-c-cal? S-s-seriously?"

"Give me some credit will you," Mused Steve. None the less, Steve reached out for the handful and cautiously unlooped Tony's arms to ease the baby into his fold. "See? No harm, no foul. I think he likes me." Switching places with his partner, Steve settled on the less than comfortable perch—feeling something squishy under his romp.

Tony paced back and forth in the kitchen, roughly scrapping his callous palms over his arms to create a much needed friction. He could feel every pubic hair standing at attention.

"Say Stark?"

"Hm?"

Steve shifted, gradually feeling the bites of cold snipping at his body, "Ever thought about having kids?"

Tony froze, no pun intended, to look over his shoulder at the person who asked him such a left field question. "C-captain," he feigned a sigh and leaned against the wall. "I know we're friendly a-and been through a lot . . . but not for all the red, white and blue would I dare violate your innocence."

A few blinks later, Steve's eyebrows hit the roof, "Wait, huh—what,? No!" he blanched after catching on to the horrifying implications. Expression scrunched, Steve rolled his eyes with a head shake. "Never mind forget it."

Tony smiled to himself. Getting the leader riled up was too easy. The humor was twice as sweet when Steve clutched his bent legs tighter as if someone would actually come and his molest his virtue. "Honestly, yeah a couple of times," He admitted. "But they were fleeting thoughts. I'm too involved with work to pay attention to kids. I didn't exactly have the best role models when it came to fathers." He shrugged, unfazed by the meaning behind what he said. "My only responsibilities are my business and the red man. It suits me better."

Steve nodded slowly, making a thinking noise. Guess he could understand that

"What about you? Ever thought about sowing your oats?"

Steve flushed, lips thinned, "I have a few times but like you they were brief. I don't think myself father material either—what the?"

Both men paused as the wiggling lump beneath the fabric started moving frantically. Rolling humps punched, kicked and started wrestling with blanket until it snatched off the slightly larger baby. Red eyes gleamed back and forth, curiously watching them until landing on Tony. Then to their astonishment, the baby's face wrinkled, button lips coiled back and a sound fiercer than the hall of sirens began to erupt.

Boy could baby crack glass.

"What the hell!" Tony blurted over the shrilling cries. "What's wrong with it?"

Steve was just was shocked as he stood with the baby, wiggling wildly in his arms. "I don't know. He just started crying."

"Damn—Jarvis, anything would help."

"_Perhaps a song sir?"_

"I'm not laughing Jarvis!"

Steve sighed, placing the baby in the crook of his neck, patting his back, "Maybe he's hungry? Sleepy? Did he make a poop?"

That scared them both.

"Damn, I don't know." Steve bounced the infant up and down in his large hand, while the other rubbed tiny circles, shushing and calming the crying down the best he could. Not a damn thing was working.

Tony rolled his fingers through his hair, frustrated. "Sing or something."

"What songs do you sing these days? I don't know any."

Tony tsked his lips and reached for the baby, rocking him back and forth, smiling down into his wintry face, "Um, twilight, twilight, little sheep, how I wonder what you are. Up in the clouds the world's so high, over the big blue moon, stop crying soon. Ba Ba black sheep the world so high, like a diamond in the sky." His foot pivoted in the opposite direction, rephrasing the same lullaby to which Steve didn't think was the right way to sing.

Off key and tone death as the day he was born, Tony wasn't at all surprised or blamed the kid one bit when he started crying louder and harder. Hell he'd cry too if he heard a band of scare crows shrieking in his ears too.

Steve flapped his hands up and down to dispel the numbing sensations. He chanced a peek at the process and smiled impressed when the child's crying dulled to mild gurgles and hums. "Not bad," he compliment Tony as he took a seat in the living room, shivers returning with a vengeance.

"Whatever," Tony managed through crackling lips. "As long as he shuts up for a while I can think—" When he sat back, running a tired hand over his sore shoulders, his nerves were on fire. "Ah damn." A few mental pros and cons radically began to form in his head. The smallest ting pinched his ear. Bodily instincts informed him of the subtle shift in energies—he knew he was fucked.

Steve stood in place, helplessly a few feet away, mouth agape but no words to express what he was seeing.

"I believe you have something of mine, Man of Iron," The cultivated villain murmured into his ear. "Be wise about your next move."

Tony blew at the humor in this.

Well he'll be damned. Two surprises in two nights. Someone really loved him up there. Tony shifted on the seat cushion to get a better view of Loki's less than impressive state. Shades of red blanketed a quarter of his face from the scalp to his chin, spiked black hair was in a ragged disarray and his suit of tough leather was shred of its former designs.

Loki looked like day old shit.

"What ass did you crawl out of?"

Time seemed to stop, suspended in silent disbelief. The baby stared. Tony stared. Steve stared. Loki's green eyes darkened, he staggered to the side. His hand clutched at the side of his head. The blood looked foreign in his pale fingers. Then he collapsed.

**~Everyone gets oreos and milks for enjoying the story. Yay~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Marvel Studios owns all characters.

**Author's Rant:** Whoa, those alerts are blowing out the ass. Thanks guys. You rock my nuggets.

**Warning:** No time to proofread. Please excuse any mistakes until rectified.

~_For some reason some couldn't see the this chapter. So its been redloaded~_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"So, who had the honor of pissing Fury off this afternoon?" The question was free to be answered by anyone, though the doctor thought it amusing that no one volunteered. The agents respectively declined any further questioning, Steve got up and left and Thor was still handling business in Asgard.

That left only Tony Stark as the likely culprit.

After living with the Avenger's for more than a year, surprise was no longer a term Banner kept in his vocabulary. When Bruce arrived home to a wintry residence, sided with some badly red stained carpets and a dose of an oddly colored infant, what more could he do except shrug it off and calmly request details.

"Sorry, I didn't get that privilege today," Stark called from the kitchen, retrieving the baby from its nap in the top freezer. "I only got to see part of the fun." He was lucky that was all he got to see when Fury arrived on call from Steve. That blood vessel snaking around his forehead had started throbbing. Not only was he enraged by Loki's undetected arrive, but when he got a glimpse of the tiny baby nestled in Tony's arms. . . well they all had a meeting to attend to this evening.

Mandatory attendance required.

Fridge door kicked close and with a new set of rubber gloves, Tony shifted the baby in his right arm and strolled to the bar counter, placing the baby on top and a small bottle of beer rolled by his side. "Loki did the work for me when he broke in last night. I was taking a day off of Nick's to-hate list. But because of this thing," Stretchy iced fingers poked the baby's belly. "I'm reinstated in the top five." Tony removed the gloves before they became a permanent part of his anatomy.

"Loki? That cat bag lunatic's back in action?" A stunned pause, then. "I thought Thor settled that problem last year?"

"So did we but like all unsolved mysteries, this one will have to wait until the solution returns home," Tony called down the hall.

"What were the chances of him returning to earth for round two?"

"Astronomical."

Bruce dunned a plain white tee and a pair of black sweat pants in the back room while calling from down the hall, "What's the story behind Junior?"

"Found him during a patrol. Little brat hit me harder than a paternity test."

"No pun intended, right?" Bruce emerged from the bedroom, shaking his head off the ruffled tangles. He dragged a stool back and hopped on the cushion, swirling around to prop his elbows on the surface—cold marble surface. "What does Fury plan to do with him?"

"Probably keep him locked away with Loki," Oddly enough, the idea didn't seat well with Tony in the least. "You know how paranoid he gets about anything non-human."

Bruce nodded, but being the scholar that he was, couldn't deny his eyes from scanning over every inch of the wiggling mini before him. Perplexity ruled out over caution as he subtly reached out and tabbed at the child with his finger tip, quickly drawing back at the note of stinging on contact.

"Pain your preferred foreplay?" Tony asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Science calls for reckless study sometimes," Bruce hissed, wagging his finger until the sharp tingling subdued. "That was mildly neat," He couldn't resist trying with a better approach and only hovered his hand over the baby's belly, pulled back and examined it closely. Prickles of frost littered over his palm and melted into dewy residue. "Hm, a natural derma secretion of hyperthermia; skin to skin contact with body temperatures any higher than -13 degrees will cause lethal frost burn if lasting longer than twelve seconds."

Tony could hug Bruce to pieces. "His internals are a navigating network of helium, nitrogen and hydrogen. Jarvis picked up on all three compounds circulating around his energy scan and I assume maybe the rest of him is mapped out with basic organs and these elements."

"We can't assume anything until tests are executed," Bruce slipped from his stool, stretching his arms overhead. "In the meantime I need to figure up something to wipe on this thing that'll counter frostbite."

"Conjure up some food too. I don't think our milk will give him the nutrition he needs."

"Right," Bruce rotated his neck from side to side, already feeling the strains of an all-nighter stressing his shoulders. "I'm in Borneo for a few days and when I get back I still have patients. I am dearly loved."

"Society appreciates your sacrifice in the name of science and lack of sex," Tony received a flip off for that. Bruce was a good guy though, through and through. If everyone would go around the fact he had a green alter ego meaner than a castrated bull, he was pretty decent to hang with. After a few card games and the exchange of theorized conclusions based on equational problems and defects, Bruce had that way of growing on you.

Kind of like a deadly mutated mold or fungus.

If Tony could rely on anyone's assistance for the team, it was Bruce. Good ole, calm on the outside, millions of dollars' worth damage on the inside.

Tony's elbow landed by the beer bottle nestled under Baby Blue's armpit, suddenly reminding him that he had an early morning cap to nurse. Now alone with him and just the kid, Tony used the moment to think or would have had if little pudgy hadn't started getting squirmy and fussy. Tony uncapped the bottle with the tip of his thumb and used the blunt end of the bottle to steer Junior around to face him so he could see the complainer eye to eye.

"Got a problem?" He questioned before the bottle entered his mouth.

The baby rolled from side to side, arms flared open and closed and chucky thighs wiggled under the silvery blue silk until it was kicked off and somehow Baby Blue propped himself up on his butt, clapping his hands at a job well down. He stared at Tony. Tony stared right back. The baby tilted his head as both red eyes settled on the brownish glass object in the man's hand. His mind worked in ways only an infant could understand and so reached out to play with it.

Tony snatched the bottle back, surprised. "No, no, for big boys only." He chaste, pressing the beer to his lips again.

"Uh, uh," The baby protested, lips quirked as his fingers made the gimme gesture.

Once more he was denied.

The baby blinked and if looked upon closer, Tony could've sworn he saw the baby pout. He reached out again, Tony settled back in his seat, eyeing the baby up and down, "Human '_No'_ must be foreign to you."

So he tried another solution; drinking the liquid from its containing and stacking it by Baby Blue's thigh. "Gone bye, bye." He emphasized by turning it upside down and jerking the few stubborn drops that remained within.

To follow was this eerie, quite annoying look of sadness as well as a few panting huffs from the baby's chest. He looked to the bottle, than to the cruel human, red eyes soaked to the iris. Breathing became erratic, button lips trembled and soon jelly fat was vibrating before Baby Blue let loose a gradually increasing wail.

Stark's eardrums shattered, "What the fu— you're kidding right?"

Tony didn't know whether to be fascinated or alarmed by the fact this baby had grown an attachment to the liquor in his bottle. Then again, he had no one else to blame but himself. Those couple of times he'd placed beer by the kid, he was bound to become attached. Tony sighed, rolling off the stool with bottle in hand and walked to the sink, ignoring the hiccupping cries from behind. "Yeah, I hear you buddy." He turned the facet on and filled it to the top with cold water, gave it a firm shake and propped it next to Baby Blue's leg.

"Here."

The bond between baby and bottle was long dissolved when the child refused to give up on his breaking cries even with the bottle in reach. "Hey, hey, shut up." Tony grunted rudely. He waved his hand in front of the baby's face and jumped when it grabbed his fingers.

A dark brown brow went up the exact moment the familiar discomfort began to gnaw at Tony's skin. He debated on pulling his index free in exchange for going deaf from the all the crazy crying. But after a short moment, noticed something slightly off. The sting, although still prominent, was a duller pain instead of sharp and intolerable.

It felt strange.

Tony tested something by wiggling the two fingers caught in Baby Blue's grip. As assumed the baby blinked at the captured prey and squealed when they moved in his tiny grasp. "_Mmm,_" he seemed to hum in wonder and glee. The baby pulled the index and ring digits apart and watched them shake, bend and crackle between each joint.

_So easy and difficult to please_, Tony mused to himself. While little smurf was busily fondling his fingers, Tony trailed off into a stream of thoughts over many things in the recent hours. For starters, there was issue concerning this baby. Where did he could from and what was he, were always the best questions to start with. How had he crashed on earth or was he sent to earth? What was the biological blue print behind this baby's genetics and when S.H.I.E.L.D. got a hold of him, what were they planning to do? Tony doubted they'd just sent it back where it came. The agency didn't work that way. If there was no possibility of anyone claiming the baby immediately, there would be tests and experimentations ran for anything benefitting the human race's security.

It wasn't remotely pleasing to consider.

He was slowly coming to terms with nearly pissing his pants when Loki had that blade pressed to his neck. Loki. Good God what were the chances seriously of having seen that guy again?

And within one's personal bubble, about an inch from slitting his jugular no less.

"What the?" Tony snapped out of his crazy tube when moisture sodden around the tips of his pointers. Lips thinned and eyebrows bunched together in concentrated focus on the baby's appetite for stubby fingers. Drool leaked from the corners of his mouth and lightly glittered—warmth?

The saliva was warm. Body temperature was abnormally, well normal. Curious, Tony reached out with his other hand, thinking of when Bruce mentioned science being worth reckless study and swallowed hard when he cupped the side of the baby's stomach.

He'd stopped breathing for reasons he didn't know when the stinging didn't attack as harsh.

The skin was faintly heating to sustainable temperatures. Then to his eye popping surprise, the skin—the outer blue exterior was . . . was changing? "Banner," Red was transforming to bright blue. Ah, damn. "Banner shit!"

The baby giggled.

"What, what!" Bruce rounded the hall way, voice deep between a growl and alarm. By the time he'd flipped over the couch, Tony was seeing the Hulk barreling toward him in a four sizes too small t-shirt and shredded sweatpants. "Smash?"

"No, no, no, no, no smash," Tony quickly rejected the offer. "Me no need million dollar lawsuit. Me want Doctor Banner ok? No green, me want little guy—you know what, never mind," Declaring it a moot point to discuss anything for the next fifteen minutes, Tony grabbed the baby and went straight for his bedroom until he couldn't hear anymore property damage.

Things were violent, green and vicious for some time until there were more verbal terms, then grunts and roars. Meanwhile, Tony had sat the baby on the edge of the bed and quietly studied the transformation take place before his very eyes. The skin was no longer its cerulean blue but a pale coffee cream white, save for his pinkish lips. Both eyes gleamed a jolly polished blue as bright as his skin once was and as for his head, only bits and pieces of ginger brown hair sprinkled, the otherwise, naked scalp.

"Well I'll be damned," Was all Tony could breathlessly say when he leaned forward and touched the baby's arms, legs, and stomach, carefully checking every inch to see if any foreign residue remained. There was none. Even the crack of the baby's booty was an even tone. "You look like a human."

Three knocks rasped against the doorframe. Tony waited to see which personality would request entrance. As if he was dumb enough to believe the Hulk _didn't know_ how to knock. "Stay," he wagged his finger in front of the baby and placed him dead center on the bed, stationing all four pillows around for safety.

The baby blew a raspberry to Tony's back and Tony uncaringly flipped the baby off, unsure if the fuck-you gestures were universal in outer space.

Tony unlocked the door, only cracking it a smidge. He leaned his shoulder on it and asked, "What does the bartender say to the neutron when he asks how much the beer is?"

Bruce put his lips to the crack and replies, "For you, no charge." Good ole Bruce. He sheepishly grinned, tying the bottom of his 5x shirt at the end and holding up his sweats with the other. "Sorry about that. You scared me."

"I scared—yeah we'll work with that, "He refused to comment on the impossible and let the man inside, "Think you can help me out with the baby? He's got a new set of clothes I want your opinion on."

"I see," Bruce had already caught set of the "brand new" infant tossing and turning around on the bed until landing square on his tummy and squealing when he realized both adults were staring at him. "How did this happen?"

"He sucked me and creamed."

Bruce blinked. "Well . . . that's a logical predatory reason to go by, but just for the sake of sparing me bad ideas, what really happened?"

Tony sat on the edge of the bed, "The kid was sitting on the counter and grabbed my hand, playing with my fingers. He stuck one in his mouth and turned into this." He pointed to the little one currently eating his toes.

Bruce finished up rearranging his clothing in one big knot and kneeled on the side of the bed, pulling the baby to the edge and looking him over with probing finger tips, making thinking sounds for every discovery made. For each squishy lump of flesh poked, the baby squealed and giggled.

Bruce scratched the side of his face and shrugged, "Did you leak any bodily fluids into his mouth? Maybe a physical copy of another's genetic make-up is a precautionary way for his kind to adjust to abnormal environments."

"No," Tony checked his index to be sure and saw no sighs of infliction.

"Well, I'm stomped. There's no telling how he turned into this. All I can say is count your blessings because it might be easier to take care of him now that he's human."

And the two really just left it at that. Already they were confused with the baby being an alien from outer space but for it to have suddenly gone mortal, they decided to just let nature run its course and wait to see whatever spectacular things took place afterwards.

Tony paused one solid minute before realizing what Bruce implicated, "What do you mean I take care of him?"

* * *

Life did move on to some degree. There wasn't much to pass in the ten hours since Loki's his bloody collapse on the floor. Clint had been pissed about his sandwich. Natasha was concerned for the baby's sake. There was a lot of beeping noises, the hurried activities of S.H.I.E.L.D. coming to secure Loki in a holding medic cell back at base and surprised expressions as the villain was wheeled through the winding halls to be cared for.

There were some half-hearted threats coming from Loki's in-and-out consciousness. The kid thankfully took a long nap, most likely due to the metamorphosis. During that lapse of peace and silence, Banner and Stark sorted their ways through the first layer of ice burn through methods of exterior chemicals in case he went highlighter blue again and edible formulas. The two hammered and cracked down intensely on every resolution they could think of, none of which were any goes for the first three hours.

By the fifth hour, Tony had accidentally knocked over a concocted blend of milk and liquid nitrogen over the table. Little Blue had crawled over to it and started to play in the mixture, even going so far as to stick his hands in his mouth and devour it. It was all squeals and giggles from there.

And on a brighter note, Nick's face was smashed tighter than a pair of spandex panties. Stark never noticed how much Fury's forehead resembled a ruffles chip until today.

"Can someone please tell me when I was going to get informed about that and that?" He pointed to the gurgling baby dressed in only his only owned item and then to through the transparent panel where Loki was pacing in a neighboring chamber.

The entire team was assembled, this time Bruce and Thor were there to soak up some of Fury's sunshine. Tony thought it was fair they shared the attitude as a team rather than broken up.

"I'm aware of my brother's escape and Asgard takes full responsibility for him having come to earth and causing any damage." Thor strongly vowed, pumping a meaty fist to his armor.

Steve cupped his teammate's shoulder. "Rest easy Thor. Your brother hasn't caused any harm to earth or the inhabitants here."

"Yet," Clint butted in irritably. "I'm pretty sure if he hadn't made a detour to knock off Stark, New York would've been six feet under."

"You don't know of my brother well enough to judge him as you do."

"Apparently you don't know him all that well either."

"He's paid for his crimes," Thor clipped, fisting clenching and flexing over the round table. "He's done nothing more than rot in that blasted cell and await his end without so much as a whisper. You think he'd suddenly return to earth just to make his sentencing worse?"

"It's not about him coming here to make his punishment worse," Clint shot back angrily. "He tried to cause earth's mass destruction _twice_, nearly wiped out the Avengers, took out eighty agents in one fucking night, caused nearly a billion dollars-worth of damage in New York alone, and I was forced to help do it all!" Clint by now had risen from his seat, chest huffing and forehead wrinkled from the flashback memories of murders and destruction he'd been a part of. The sight of lives he'd taken, the bloodshed of his own comrades by his hands . . . He swallowed hard. "I almost offed my partner." He settled down heavily in his chair, cupping tired hands over his face. "Don't tell me I don't know him when I worked for his ass. I know how Loki operates and I know whatever he wants ain't good for shit."

Everyone shared looks, some mixed with their own inner opinions and emotions on the situation and soon all eyes fell to the gurgling child, rocking back and forth in front of Tony's chest. He murmured incoherently to himself, sometimes turned around to speak to Tony and went back to playing with the long hairy fingers. Not a single care in the world or aware that he was about to be the next subject of everyone's attention.

"Ok," Fury paced around the table very slowly collecting his composure, squeezing the pressure above his nose. "Loki's captured and that's an issue we can deal with later. Right now I need answers about that thing before its parents come to earth staking claim on every living soul here." He pointed his finger to Stark. "Since the baby likes you so much we can start with you. I want the five W's and I want them fast."

Tony relaxed in his leather seat, "Who? His name is Antonio. What he is, we don't know. When he arrived? Approximately twelve hours, seven minutes and twenty three seconds ago. Where, we don't know. Why, we have no damn clue."

"His name is Antonio?" Steve interrogated curiously. He looked between Tony and the baby. "How did you know that?"

"I named him."

"You named him?"

"He named him," Bruce confirmed. "He got sick of Smurf, Blue berry, Fruit Loop and Skylar, so he settled with naming him after himself."

"You may call him Nio for short," Tony added in.

Natasha stared and shook her head as she turned to Thor, "Do you have any clue as to what kind of thing it is?"

"Perhaps," Thor looked the child's features over from head to toe. "He looks of your kind. Small, dainty with fuzzy hair, but" He leaned in closer, noticing something else. Lips thinned, "The evidence is small but I see the air of crimson cool dancing in his eyes. A Jotun child," Sighing, Thor fell away from the table, looking up to the ceiling. "He's a frost giant's offspring from Jotunheim."

"And those are?" Nick stressed.

"Large barbaric creatures from a planet cast from the rest of the eight worlds to control its wintry assault. They'd attempted to control earth long ago but my Father banished them to the desolate part of the stars where no life could live but their own," Thor looked to the child then. "If a child is born too small, or weak they choose to relieve it of their home by abandoning it to the elements or casting it off a cliff. They would never send babes to distant worlds."

"Then how do you explain it coming to our planet?"

"I cannot say."

"But I know someone who can," Steve rose from his chair and walked to the window panel where their prisoner sat witnessing the turn of events through tampered glass and barrier metals. "Can't you Loki? Would you know something about the baby here? Is he why you came to earth?"

With the attention now drawn to him, Loki coolly spared each individual a look before a shoulder stiffly curt beneath tightly knitted bandages. Despite being stripped of his Asgardian attire and displayed before them in nothing more than cream bandages wrapped from his neck to the hemline of his papery pants, Loki was able to maintain this regal, intimidating appeal that kept everyone on alert.

"May or maybe dear Captain," Loki regarded boringly. "I'm here for my own reasons but I don't think myself inclined to tell any of you what my mission is."

"To wreak havoc and take over the world like every rejected Bambi," Stark theorized, whether it was serious or not. "There isn't much to really tempt villains these days besides world domination." He chuckled darkly, looking to Loki then. "But if you don't have any problems being Hulk-ed to death, by all means go for it."

Loki seemed to almost think about Stark's words until his crafty smile came in full force, "I'd watch my own tongue if I were you Man of Iron_. _You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I know you're capable of failing and will forever fail," Tony sweetly reminded, while toying with Antonio's plump toes. "Such is the life of continuum losers. Isn't that right?" The baby squealed as his feet were nibbled and tickled with Tony's goatee.

Loki's smile grew as his eyes dimly glowed an endless shade of green, "You seem to take your ability to speak for granted," He was away from his perch and in front of the glass panel before the next blink, right palm pressed against the transparent container. "Let me remedy that for you."

The weight of unforeseen sheets of emerald jolted through the glass barrier like a tidal wave. Only one saw or felt what happened next.

Tony couldn't or wouldn't have been able to describe what occurred as the sheer amount of gravity sinking sensations coiled around his windpipes and what felt like a constricting sledgehammer around his vocal cords. He felt it grow harder to breath, he couldn't move, or look away from the endless eyes of conflicting blues and greens. Tony tried to open his mouth but found them glued to each other. His nostrils were blocked. There was no way of getting oxygen in or carbon dioxide out.

_Oh God, oh god . . . that son of a bitch. He's going to kill me from the inside out. Shit. _

He wanted to reach out, to speak or alert in some way he was under attack but—

As if through a half filled tunnel, Tony could hear distinct noises or rather faint crying coming from somewhere. It was low, muffled somehow but he could hear it. There were soft pats, many of them, pounding at his chest and weeping cries. They grew louder, oh so loud.

Tony's head snapped back as the entirety of what happened zapped from him. He wheezed, coughed and pounded on his chest, drawing all eyes to him.

"Stark?" Steve circled around, slamming his palm into the center of Tony's back. "Stark breathe!"

Thor stood fast, knocking the chair from the force of his thighs as he traced the remnants of sorcery smug the atmosphere back to his brother's prison, "Loki enough of this. You'll kill him!"

Antonio cried louder and kept slamming his tiny balled fists into Tony's chest. He looked over his shoulder to Loki and whimpered, "Mmm," eyes melting back to watery scarlet. The silent message was unseen, only exchanged between them alone. Loki's smile disappeared, replaced with a cruel glare as he stepped back from the window and sat on the only piece of furniture in his cage. He closed his magic away just as Tony felt his lungs expand and he greedily sucked in all the air he could.

"Get him to medevac stat!" Nick ordered, "Close off all opening and connecting paths to cell twenty five dash sector four. I don't want a goddamn thing getting from that room!"

Tony was in and out of all that happened to him. He vaguely remembered seeing Rodgers and Barton's faces hovering above him; Thor's voice booming in the distance and he assumed Natasha hacking away at the computer security. "I think I learned the fastest way to piss off Loki," he groggily joked. His head wobbled from side to side, finding a single source to rely on but in the end the surrounding black began to demand his concentration and soon everything was dark.

_**XxXxXxX**_

Things to follow were a solid blur of events. All of it mostly happened while Tony was stationed in a single location. Good news was that he knew he wasn't in the hospital. The situation wasn't that dire. Bad news was that he was in the dark, in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medic basement to be precise, surrounded by sterilized air conditioning. How did he know? The bed sucked royally. It was flat, hard and terribly uncomfortable. The room was very cold, the sheets were too thin to fry and he had to take a piss.

All in all, besides chest pain and mild dizziness, Tony could say he'd had worse; much, much worse.

After a while he slowly felt sleep getting the best of him and decided if he peed himself, he could blame it on the foreign toxins being injected in his arm and the Loki magic. Clint would get a kick out of hearing that one.

When the nap ended this time around Tony had hoped he'd been moved to the mansion but knew that wasn't the case when he opened his eyes and he still saw the back of his eyelids. The tubes were gone so no meds were being pumped in his system.

The sigh came long and shaky when he felt the wisp of paranoia blanket his body.

He froze.

Someone was in the room. Whether it was by the shadowy figure standing near the end of his bed or the fact that the hairs on the back of his head electrified to pricked needles. And here he'd been hoping for a peaceful night.

"What, you came to finish the job?" Tony said from his bed post, pushing up to lean against the metallic head board. "That's all well and good but just for laughs; don't kill me in the dark. I have phobias."

"Don't tempt me," The deadly words mystified closer than Tony calculated. "I could so easily slit your throat here and now."

Tony tsked his lips, "Don't let me stop you." The ting of steel swipe across the air and pressed under Tony's Adam's Apple. For psychotic sakes Tony knew Loki wouldn't kill me now. Don't ask him why he knew.

There was swiftness and the stir of fabric touching fabric before Tony felt round, slightly damp lumps press squarely on the shell of his ear. The cultivated tenor to follow was threatening and among other things . . . a word Tony refused to confess about the enemy. "I'll grant you a single purpose Stark and that's to live," Air inhaled and fanned the ear alarmingly erotic. "You owe me that much for taking what's rightfully mine."

Tony's mouth went bone, stone dry. _For taking—wait, what?_

"You will see me soon Man of Iron," The weighted pressure vanished. In a sizzling rush Loki was gone and with him he took damn near took Tony's sanity. Flopping back on his bed, Tony ran a weary hand over his face and blew out all the air he'd been holding back. Loki let him live, why who knows, and for what purpose who cares.

By morning, Tony had absolutely no explanation for Clint when asked the following day why there was piss all over the bed. All he said was that he saw a disturbingly, sexy rat last night and it scared him shitless.

Eyes as wide as chocolate moon pies, Clint stepped away from the bed and slowly inched toward the elevator, gaze intense and fingers twitching for his bow. He didn't say anything and didn't need too. His expression conveyed something about piss fantasies with good looking rodents.

Now stuck with figuring out what Loki had in store for him and convincing Clint to keep what he saw secret, Tony wished he'd just stayed asleep.

* * *

**Until next time ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Rant:** Those Alerts! Dear God!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

**Red Alert. Red Alert. Security Breach. All agents report to duty stations.**

**Red Alert. Red Alert. Security Breach. All agents report to duty stations.**

**This is not a drill. This is not a drill. All systems are set to codes orange.**

There was chaos in the S.H.I.E.L.D Battle ship. Alarms blared, crimson glows scattered and blinded all who fell into the winding beams. Rubber shoes smashed the metallic panels, voices booming off the walls vocal command need to engage security. Flickering in and out of darkness, the entire fortress was lit violently with computer panels, reset decoding and the rush of shadows filtering to and fro.

Throughout it all, the mayhem was set accordingly. The destruction. The calamity. The roar of sounds so loud, no one could hear the thunderous crackle of tampered glass. It was planned. The moment of motion was secured.

The container that held the station's prisoner now laid empty.

It would be minutes before anyone realizes Loki's missing. By then, he is too far for anyone to detect. Direction in mind and only one mission his focus.

Nick Fury, good ole wonderful, amazingly awesome Nick Fury, because of previous events taking place a week ago, had concluded that Tony needed at least a couple of weeks off the team's duty routines until fully recuperated from Loki's mental assault. This of course Tony would not argue with. The only problem is he wished he'd gained this generous offering through actual relaxing needs instead of Clint going back to his employer to inform him that Tony was having psychological issues with his sexual preference between animals and humans.

Oh well, such is the odd way of life.

However, Tony was starting to think he was due for a checkup as well after what happened to him recently.

Let's recap the previous night.

. . . . .

After a late night roaming the threads of a social gala, Stark brought home the latest hot body, bed them real nice, and send them on their way with a great cup of coffee and freshly pressed clothes.

Yes and Baby Antonio was the helpful factor in gathering last night's lovely set of legs, breasts and ass. Against Fury's orders of keeping the child out of sight, out of mind, Clint's advice about women loving children was put to the test and boy did these results prove wonderfully beneficial.

After Tony so graciously attended the Disney's Build-A-Hope Function to promote better awareness of child abuse, he'd just so happened to have his mini look alike, perched on his arm dressed in a smaller version of his jet black Armani suit with matching red ties and dark sunglasses. What little hair the tiny munchkin possessed was sleeked back with baby oil and brushed gently to the back.

The cameras went wild of course. Capturing those singular moments that would speak a thousand words. Questions were asked; many, many questions. Naturally Tony handled himself with relative ease and a poise that had the women swooning at his feet.

The paparazzi were relentless. "Tony is this baby the result of a nightly fling? Who's child is he? A relative? Are you babysitting? Have thoughts of settling down been done under wraps? What are your thoughts about child abuse? Was this little boy the result of a abusive home?"

With all the bright lights, the roar of company and continuum shouts for his attention, Tony barely had time to catch Antonio's distress until his elbow was tugged in a separate direction by his savior. A very beautiful red haired woman, who'd be receiving a promotion for coming to his rescue whisk them away to a quiet dance room, vacant of any noisy perps. Dear, sweet Pepper whose reaction to the baby was not as offhanded as Tony expected it to be, calmly rested a hand on her eyes and counted to ten. She made him swear to answer her questions about Antonio when she returned to the office Wednesday and to take the boy home now before he pissed his pants.

Or Tony's suit.

So Tony had made the horrible decision to just leave with only one woman that night instead of the six he'd had divided on each arm during the small attendance. It was pretty much a moot point since when they got in the car, all she did was coo over Antonio's plump cheeks and, if Tony could interpret baby language, realize that the little bastard was eating it up. He giggled, and to Tony's shock had the absolute nerve to wiggle free from his grasp and crawl into the willing woman's lap, laying his head sleepily on her ample—emphasis on ample—Triple D bosom.

Impressed? Indeed Tony was. The brat was learning mighty fast how to use his advantages well. Tony used his fame, glory, handsomeness and money to get what he wanted; but it compared to a bucket of shit when you were small, chunky and wearing a sexy diaper.

In the end, the night was a half orgasmic bust and this rare occasion, the blonde was sent home with a kind, _don't come back_ stamped to her back.

Antonio simply blinked innocently at Tony when he returned, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his blazer. "You're a real piece of work," he commented to junior.

"Weeee!" Antonio rolled on his back, holding his feet in the air, trying his hardest to get a toe in his mouth.

Tony chuckled, "Jarvis, watch the kid for a minute. I'm going to take a wash."

"_Yes sir."_

So far the night was just beginning.

Tony took his shower using his bottle of Men's Caress instead of Irish Spring, and went to bed with only one—no he later considered two glasses of Macallan 18 would best suit him for bedtime after giving the brat a wash off in ice cold water—then fell into a rarely taken slumber.

Or would have if mini-me hadn't gotten fussy. In the little time they'd shared together, Tony was learning Antonio's routines. The child wasn't much of a sleeper just like him, but really all he wanted was a bottle and a back pat. "Alright, alright, I get it. No sleep for Big Tony," The man grouched over the gradually louder cries. He would thank Bruce later for storing a full case of the nitrogen mixture at his house because Nio was a very greedy eater.

"Ok Sport, I got you right here," Tony picked up the baby, cradling his head in the crook of his arm and rested against the headboard, carefully inserting the nipple instead of choking him as he'd done before. He was getting use to this whole guardian thing. He refused to say father for personal reasons. Lessons were being learned. Deciphering one cry from the other was. . . well disturbingly surprising, but it made for keeping Antonio's company easier.

"Drinking it all huh?" Tony grinned from ear to ear as Nio suckled louder at the comment. When it emptied, Tony placed the bottle on the nightstand and placed the baby on his shoulder, patting his back as shown on the baby videos Natasha rented for him.

"Come on where is it," Pat, pat, pat. "Give me a nice, big—Oh," the air release came . . . sadly it wasn't at the end Tony was expecting. "Pig," he rudely grunted shifting the plump bottom away from his face and resumed patting Antonio's back until the _correct _burp came. "I hope you're sleepy because we're not pulling an all-nighter this time."

Seriously, he couldn't put up with another dreamless terror with walking back and forth in the hallway, singing off tune and rocking from side to side to the point of getting dizzy. It'd taken five songs, nineteen rotations up the hall, down to the garage and back up, then a session on the dryer before Antonio had enough crying and decided to give Tony a break.

That'd happened the last three nights straight.

Not this round, thank God. The bottle did the trick with nudging little Nio in the right direction and soon he was nodding off with Tony's large hand softly stroking through his red and blue stripped one piece. It wasn't long before Tony fell asleep with his hand still cupped over Nio's fat behind.

Around four seventeen in the morning, an equation for an old project called Mark 19, magically hallucinated somewhere in Tony's head and hopped out of bed to find his notepad and pen. With that scribbled down, he thought to reward himself with a nice shot of Scotch. He could've kicked himself in the ass when all the commotion aroused Antonio out of his sleep for a hot second. Using quick thinking, Tony sprinted on his tip toes to the other side of the bed, and flattened his palm on Nio's back, rubbing mini circles until the baby's whimpers reduced to tiny peeps.

"Damn," Tony swore—super quietly. He'd been scared out of his mind that he'd have to endure another mommy night. He eased the comforter over Nio's legs and leaned forward to. . . to. . . shit.

Almost took it a little far this time. He stepped away and walked off, keeping a careful eye over his shoulder, until rounding the corner.

Tony walked to the little bar stand in his kitchen to pour himself a much needed nightcap, and downed it in the first gulp. It burned. He liked it. The only reason for this drink was to calm his nerves and possibly loosen up his body for another lie down. So it's anyone's guess how he was feeling when he poured himself another drink, taking the first sip and turn to find Loki Laufeyson, standing by his window staring over the city's terrain like he owned it.

In full gear from head to toe in his Asgardian armor, minus the flowing green cape, he didn't look a day pasted fucked up. In fact, there wasn't a scratch on him. Tony was sure he could blame this illusion on one thing.

'_Side effects. Definitely side effects.'_

Tony sighed, newly opened bottle in one hand and half-filled glass in the other. He would give himself credit for not panicking or wetting the crotch of his pants when those sage green eyes slid his way, "Jarvis."

"_I'm aware of the unwanted company sir. I do apologize for the late notice, but it was several seconds when you exited your bed roomthat he conjured up."_

Several seconds that Loki could've used to slit his throat, set his bedroom on fire, slung him through the window again—hopefully that wouldn't reoccur a second time— created a new vortex to allow another horde of grunts to molest the earth and just oh, the possibilities were endless.

Another long look was cast to the bulk label of the Scotch bottle in his hand, before Tony replied, "Jarvis, how long have I been on this brand?"

"_According to surveillance records, you've had Miss Potts begin ordering it approximately three weeks, eleven hours and thirty minutes ago. A rather degrading taste from the __Glenfiddich 21._

Well, that might explain a few things. Tony promptly poured the glass into the sink and threw the bottle in the garbage. "Ok," he clasped his hands together, rocking back and forth on his heels. "This is what's going to happen. I'm going to bed, and when I come back, all I want to see is my living room furniture, New York's Empire State Building, Miss Potts stressing me about the latest documents and a new bottle of Glenfiddich. . . You," He pointed both index fingers towards' the bored expressed sorcerer, "are going to be elsewhere, not in my home as an illusion or a probable assumption that I may be going insane. Good night."

With that obvious dismissal hopefully enforced, Tony discreetly drifted his thumb under the emergency button beneath his counter and hobbled down the short stairwell toward his bedroom. Avengers don't fail him now. He had exactly seven minutes to determine the best way to go about this without causing a problem, but as luck would have it things didn't always go as planned.

If the soundless whistle of a sailing projectile was anything to go by.

Tony's face was an inch away from a pointed blade he was all too familiar with from months ago. Apparently this was an invitation to sit and chat a bit.

"Spare a few words if you would," Loki's voice hovered in the living room like lead powder, light as dust but heavily gravitating. "Afterwards, I'll gladly be on my way."

He did have a way of persuading a fellow. "Safe to say I'll be joining you." Tony swallowed, leaning his face as far away from the dart as if it'd to come to life and re-aim on its target. Should've taken that second glass when he had the chance. Oh well, that's water under the bridge now.

"So," Tony perked when he was a good breathing distance away from the blade and twenty feet from Loki's lethal stare. "I'm just going to safely make a quick theory here. On your way home in that mouth cuff, you hit your head on a meteor—since Earth tends to have those lolling about— and accidentally tried to find your way home but wound up here assuming this was Loki's Insanity Ward instead of Tony Stark's address," Tony nodded to himself after that conclusion. "Am I hitting somewhere warm or still lost in the North Pole, help me out here."

The statement caused Loki to tilt his head to the side slightly as if actually giving some thought to what was said, "Do you really think it appropriate to make light of my company? Obviously I'm here with purpose."

A purpose. Right, safe to say that wasn't good. "And that purpose would be?" Tony drawled, motioning with his hand for the intruder to continue.

Loki took his time replying back after sweeping the highest floor of the building with bored regard, "Don't play ignorant Stark. It's not becoming of you." A white and blue flowered vase was picked up and examined with mild taps of Loki's fingers. "I'm here for the child you unjustly took from my custody."

"Ho, ho, hold on just a minute, while I get this straight," Tony leaned against the wall, arms folded eyebrows knitted tight. "I unjustly took from you? Correct me if I'm wrong but wasn't he sent flying at Mach 50 through the atmosphere on?" He shakes his head, confused. "Where the hell does my unjustly actions come in when I saved his life?"

"The earth ground was sound where I projected his landing," Loki explained as if not comprehending that the child could've died. "He would've survived."

"With what? A broken leg, a few cracked ribs and a smile to boot?"

Loki sent him a sharp look, "You think I would allow him to be harmed?"

"Sending him to earth alone pretty much says that in itself."

"Regardless of the outcome, he's alive and well," Loki toiled with the glass figurine between his fingertips. "I need to see him."

Five minutes left to go. They were going to need to shorten their response calls. Tony mentally vowed to schedule a meeting about that for foreseen cases. "Ah no, you're in need of finding the closest stage right. It's a little late to be requesting a visits when my minds way out in left field." At this hour, he would've been just getting up to do some field work down stairs but here he wakes up to find this piece of work in other worldly leather and wonderfully expensive cologne.

. . . Was that London by Burberry?

Loki chuckled softly, "Your airless batter amuses me Man of Iron, but really I am pressed for time. So on if you would stand aside?" The vase was returned to its place and the hands that held it, cupped behind Loki's back as he languidly approached, eyes calm and expression blank. "You, come along."

You? So now Tony was reduced to just a random person. Screw the fact this was his house. "Lead the way." Tony swiped with his hand for Loki to go on ahead down the hall. Loki gives him a steady glance before strolling down the hall to the bedroom.

He stops at the entrance, not daring to go further. Tony steps around him, looking from the intruder to the slumbering infant. "What are you doing?"

"Watching him," Loki answers nonchalantly. "It's been ages since I could see him sleep so peacefully."

"You don't have that kind of time Bambi, unless you enjoy being knocked out by the Avengers," Tony's own way of saying either leave now or be prepared for calamity.

"Be not a fool," Loki waltzed into the bedroom, green eyes never leaving the plump profile of little Antonio. "I'm aware you've pressed that device to summon your comrades. Necessary precautions were already taken just in case."

Tony paled, "Such as?"

"If they arrive before I'm gone, you'll know."

"Fabulous, a death trap right? Another vortex to the hell? Be a little more original."

Loki kneeled along the bedside, wounding his arms together and lowered on top, gaze a foot away from the slumbering infant. He didn't answer Tony for some time, with all his attention revolving around the baby he'd thought lost to him. So small, young, regretfully born into this discriminative universe. It was damning really to think about how short this boy's future looked. This trip to earth was going further than planned. Loki had hoped no one would find him or the child at least days after his escape.

In that lapse of planned allotment, he'd wanted to be hidden away in the Nine. For what he needed to do, he couldn't do it on this backwater planet.

No, Zephyr deserved better.

Loki sighed, troubled and long as he reached out, curling fingers over a scalp of hair that had no business flustering as it was and over skin that no longer pulsed a living winter, but a mortal's warmth. His brow coursed into knotted groobes as he trailed further across blushing cheeks, long eye lashes and button-swelled lips. "You've written this child's death warrant Stark," He released in one breath.

Tony had to walk closer—crazy as that sounds—just to hear what was said, "Come again? What's wrong with Antonio?"

A pause echoed the words in Loki's mind far louder than any verbal question. Loki blinked, lifted a thin brow and repeated, "Antonio? You've given him a Midgardian title?" He shook his head. "No need, he won't be staying here for long. Zephyr has already been chosen for him."

The name. God if that was the kid's name, Tony was doing him a favor. "Sorry, we don't tend to name kids after video games. Antonio will do. And, who says he'll be going anywhere? Unless you've got DNA rights, he's going to keep that diaper parked here." He stepped back as Loki rose, unfazed or simply forgetful of the five inch height difference between them. Those fiery green eyes slashed at him like a bullwhip, snapping and dividing him to dust.

"My connection with this boy is no concern of yours," He softly sneered. "Don't twist yourself any deeper in our business than you already are Tony Spark. It won't vote well for you in the end."

Ask Tony if he gave a damn? "I've been through hell and back taking care of this brat for a couple of weeks. After changing his hundred and second diaper we're on a first name basis," Folding his arms tight, he shifted his weight from one foot to the foot. "I'm pretty sure whatever shit he's in, I can manage."

"You," Loki leaned in, vision filled from head to toe with the man before him as if scrutinizing every fleshy inch of him with a mere glare could evaporate him into dirt. In Tony's mind, he probably could, but he'd have one hell of time doing it. "You would mingle your affairs with a child you barely know? Who's obviously not your own?"

"To keep him from going with you? Yeah, of course," In this kind of situation, Tony knew as chilled as it sounded, he wouldn't waste a moment in saving this kid's life from Loki. If it pushed that far. He doubted even Loki would do something to him with Antonio only three feet from them both.

"Well," Loki murmured after a long moment. "I guess Zephyr has chosen well. As tromped as this environment is," He didn't an annoyed swipe of the interior with a disgusted tilt of his lip. "I suppose his stay could last a bit longer."

That seemed . . . well that seemed almost too easy.

"But—

Never mind.

"I'll be making regular visits to ensure his health is in find quality and expect your assistance without problem. See to it he's given proper nurturing and care of the upmost kind." He narrowed his eyes. "Hopefully Midgardians are good at something other than rebellion and disorder."

"Kicking your ass, please add that to the list if you would," Tony stated offended.

A shrug, "A onetime thing I assure you."

"We can go anytime Mr. PETA."

Loki flicked his wrist as he walked past, cupping his hands behind his back.

"By the way, there's a private soiree being hosted called the Black and White Gala. I believe you and that reckless team have gotten your invitations yes?"

That's nothing new. Tony had received an invitation to the social occasion but hadn't planned to attend. "So where do I squeeze in?"

"You as well as the remaining five will _want_ to attend. Believe me it'd be in your best interests too."

"Rotating around the question aren't we?"

Loki's eyebrow rose to the edge of his hairline, "A personal acquaintance of mine will be showing up in disguise. A dark haired, blue eyed female of fair complexion. She'll most likely be purchasing a hundred lives in a single stroke." He checked the back of his nails, "Be wise to heed her ten inch nails. They can be vital damaging."

"You've got friends here? When did you find the time to be social?"

"Does it really matter? Be grateful I'm giving you the satisfaction of saying anything at all."

Says the guy he tried to kill him not too long ago.

Tony by now had worked himself into a stool in the kitchen, fist balled under his chin and eyes skeptically analyzing the person before him, "And you're telling me this to be a Good Samaritan?" A shake of his head. "You do understand my level of confidence is non-existent with you right? How are we supposed to know this isn't a scheme?" It seemed almost too easy _not_ to be. Accepting a tip from the God of Mischief? A person might as well jump over a cliff and believe gravity doesn't work.

At that, Loki merely bounced a shoulder, face peeled clean of any possible leeway to falsehood, "I suppose you'll find out soon enough. Go or don't go, the decision is yours. But do keep in mind I will be there to witness the show. My only advice is to not take the boy with you as I've seen you do on the portrait screen." Loki grinned then. "If you are really so curious as to why I'm betraying my associate, think of it as compensation for taking care of what's mine."

"Right, splendid, so," Stark lazily looked over to a wall clock in the corner, then to a beacon shine coming from a distance through the glass panels. "In about one point nine minutes, if you're still here, there's going to be a lovely buffet serving an electrocuted Asgardian impaled through a metallic arrow, on a side of size nine boots, on top of an Americanized plate." Tony scratched at his beard, stifling back a yawn. "And if you can manage to eat all that, you'll get a free supply of uni-beam sticks."

"I think not," Loki silkily dismissed. "I'll bide my farewell to you for now, Man of Iron." A graceful bow and a devious grin later, Loki took his leave in a show of sizzling emerald flames and audible dissolve whisper that had Tony wearily checking around for something possibly combusting nearby.

"Bastard," Naturally there was the air of disbelief floating around but all Tony could do was be cautious of Loki's advice. Be it a lie or truth there's no telling for sure. He reached for his phone and after some thought, didn't feel up to dealing with Pepper's attitude so early and decided to email her a reminder that there was going to be an Art Gallery to follow up on. The rest of the gang could be brought up to speed later. For now, he had a date with a pillow.

Sadly by the time the Avenger's arrive to aid their comrade by way of one bellowing Hulk smashing through the window for action, Tony had skated his feet across the carpet and found refuge on his mattress. Repairs on floor twenty will be saved for tomorrow.

By morning he had a face full of baby ass.

. . . . . .

That was how his night pretty much went. The lead was a made of gold after all. There was a wild shrieking battle axe of a woman that attacked the private party, declaring every American a sacrifice for her dead father.

Tony promised to kill Loki, slowly when he forgot to mention this psycho bitch's claws could cut through solid alloy. The family jewels were nearly confiscated on a spit. He should've just stayed home like Nick ordered. He was noticing there were a lot of things he should've done when Nick asked him too. . . oh man.

. . . . . .

He was going to have some kind of peace in here dammit. So help him if Tony decided to go out on a whim to fight crime. He'd had enough of the spur of the moment surprises for one month. After his lecture from Steve about being more concerned about his health and the baby's Tony made a new promise, right next to killing Loki, to never ever risk the sake of his manhood for no one. He woke up with a start this yesterday and hadn't been sleep since.

All he remembers is banshee shrieking, something about karate ninjas and clutching his balls with a iron glove.

If there was ever a way to free his mind of the craziness, it was working down in his man cave, where no one dared to tread. Except little Antonio. He's earned it.

"What do you think? Too much," Tony sat back in his leather seat, studying the outer exterior of a small project he occasionally worked on when bored senseless. It'll eventually turn into something. What exactly, there was no telling.

Antonio was dressed in a gifted outfit from Pepper: A custom crafted panda one piece with floppy puff balls hanging from strings. Apparently the look of a cuddly animal was the rage these days. The poor woman has gushed over the baby ever since she'd learned of his origin. The visits were constant, the fussing was disgusting and once more Tony found himself as jealous of Antonio like he'd been when learning of Elmo Valentine.

Antonio crawled over the workstation table, and blew a raspberry at the metal contraption.

"Yeah I thought so too," Tony agreed. He hacked off a corner with a small flamethrower and added a new attachment to the side. It looked, interesting enough. "How's this one?"

Antonio blinked, and without warning clapped with wild glee and squealed at the top of his lungs.

"Ah looks like we have a winner!" Tony clapped once and pushed back from the table to gather his belongings. "This calls for a drink for me and a nap for you." Just as he picked up the blue prints, a familiar chill racked up his back. Tony sighed. He was starting to think he was stuck in a twilight film. He patted himself on the back for not showing a single emotion when turning to find Loki perched on the edge of one of his cars, looking quite out of place.

"Enjoyed the party?" Loki hummed.

"Immensely so. So much that I'd wished you'd been there to join the Castrated Club." Tony was still pissed about that. He hooked an arm around the baby and protectively pulled him back across the table. "We would've made you secretary."

"Boneless chatter aside Stark," Loki shoved off the car hood and vanished, quickly appearing again five feet from Tony. "I've held my end of the contribution. Let me see the boy."

"I don't remember us making a deal."

"Oh there was one made. You consented."

"I would've remembered."

"Do you ever remember what you do not wish to remember?" Loki toyed with him patiently. He closed the gap between them in two long strides and held out his arms. "I'll give you the chance to hand him over. Just one."

Tony tucked the baby back and felt betrayed when Antonio reached out.

"You're weary of me," Looki praised. "Good. As you should be."

"I'm like that with most of the men who try to kill me." He frowned, and stepped further back but it created a negative reaction and Nio started to softly wail. Tony looked to Loki then, "Don't leave from here," he warned without a shred of amusement in his voice. "I'll kill you if you do."

"An empty threat," Loki absently replied, taking the baby from out stretched arms and cradling him to his chest. "How have you fared Little One?"

Antonio let loose a series of gurgles, mingled squeals, gabba gabbas and for each term, Loki nodded respectfully as if understanding perfectly. Tony returned to his seat and watched the transaction between baby and villain, like the witness to a parent visit. It was strange seeing earth's killer pacing the room with a tiny baby in his arm, carrying a conversation without a care.

Loki propped on the same car as before, landing Antonio by his side, "How long to plan to keep him Stark."

Tony had to catch himself because of the question. He hadn't really thought about it, "To keep him from you? As long as need be."

"You answered with a lie spun in truth. Peculiar."

Tony lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Antonio patted Loki's hand and whimpered. Loki listened intensively and nodded his head, "Zephyr speaks highly of you Man of Iron. He says he'd rather stay here as long he wants too."

"You can talk to him?"

"No, but his feelings are easily interpreted," Loki stood, baby in hand, walking back to return him to his previous guardian. Antonio nearly leaps back into Tony's arms and unaware Tony grabs him back with just as vigor excitement. Loki blinks, seeing a soft connection there. He steps back, nodding, "One would think you had a knack for caring for children Stark. You do someone a decent father."

Loki was gone before Tony could diffuse that notion. He was no father. He never wants to be and never intends to be.

"Mmm," Antonio pops his cheek playfully and immediately Tony forgets what it was he planned to say. It was feeding time anyway. He needed to debate on feeding the kid smashed peas or carrots.

* * *

**_TBC: Damn this chapter was sketchy for me. We'll find out Loki and Nio's connection soon. This is my first Avengers story and the comments from veteran fans would do this story some good. ^_^._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Rant: **Your participation is this story's fuel. Thank you so much for feeding it.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Tony wasn't going to lie. Out of all the personally provided leads given by Loki, he had to admit that this one was his all-time favorite. Actually it was just precious. If he decided if he was going to go about betraying the Avengers by trusting the word of the perfected Liesmith, this was the way to go about it. Having to attend a Mardi Gras theme affair was just the cherry tip for the events to come.

At exactly ten thirty eight as promised, the gate crasher came roaring through the only entrance of the gala with what looked like a 1974 armored Monster Truck that'd seen better days.

Within the rusted doors was the awaited guest by the name of Bartholomew "Bart" Gallows or by Captain America's howling recognition: AmeriCop, a retired police officer turned vigilante. At 6'1 weighing at an impressive 225 lbs and nothing else to tell what he looked like behide the badly designed City Finest Uniform, Tony Stark couldn't find the inch of sense to take this guy seriously.

Not entirely serious, until the villain showed enough modern knowledge to know how fast a M40 Machine Gun could shoot when snapped in rapid fire. There was lots of screaming by the rich people, a marathon of sprinting cowards and eventually that left the Avengers to take care of the former Houston Officer. Safe to say there wasn't much of a mess to clean when Thor and Hulk did a double combo punch that sent AmeriCop skating the main road for five good miles.

Besides the collapsing columns and Stark losing out a potential honey, the night was fairly pleasant.

The added spice was the Russian joke of an officer saying every negative slur about the American Dream and Steve losing his temper.

A sight worthy of being posted on youtube.

There was a six hundred thousand view count within five minutes, and ten million by the next morning.

* * *

"What are you going to call this one?" Clint shifted into a better position in the top hanging hamper, and munched through the roast beef, provolone and ham sandwich he was eating, vigorously enough so that small particles of bread crumbs flew in several different directions. "I'm still waiting for that grand you owe from that villain who-do BS you promised before." He waved his half bitten snack accusingly, slicing dribbles of mustard here and there. "Don't think I forgot about that. I wanted to buy that flat screen for my living room."

"I haven't," Tony leaned back in his work seat, taking a wide mouth bite of his own sandwich and failed at trying to hide his smile behind the whole wheat when Antonio tried to nurse around his peach slices. The brat was getting there with only four tiny teeth to help. "But I'd be worried about that rash making Tasha asks some uncomfortable questions."

Barton caught the slip of meat that nearly fell from his lip, "It's getting kind of old bringing up old school problems don't you think?" Not a trance of irritation existed in the smug way he spoke from above. "Besides, that's been there and done that stuff. I haven't had an itch in a month."

"So I was imagining the way you squirmed in the meeting yesterday?"

Clint half shrugged as he swallowed and reached around his waist for the large dish of fixed sandwiches, "Nick was talking about upgrading a new legal eagle clip in everybody's ear pieces to sound like Jarvis." He bit down hard. "I think that's a justifiable reason to panic." His voice shrieked as he inhaled a large chuck of meat and cheese.

Tony pressed the button by his side and lowered the portable escape, crossing the room to smack Baron's back until the lunged debris safely slipped down his throat. Clint hacked a couple of safe coughs before asking out of the blue, "What do you think Loki's up too?"

"Wouldn't know," Tony said. "I haven't gotten the detector up and running, remember?"

Clint blinked. Tony wondered if he'd actually given that some thought. "You think he came here for another scheme for world domination?"

"It's a probability. You know the bad guy types never stray too far from the script." Tony retook his seat, reaching inside his desk drawer to retrieve a pacifier and gently tilted Antonio's chin to prop it in his mouth. He'd gotten fussy in the middle of the Clint's Choke Scare. "So long as he isn't trying to cause any murderous trouble, things should be fine."

Clint snorted, flipping off the riling with plate in hand. "I don't care what kind of trouble or plans he's got conjured up. I don't think it's cool we sit here and let him roam the city." Picking up his sandwich, he eyed it skeptically then took another bite. He fussed through the resulting mouthful, but Tony had enough exposure to this to know what he was saying. "I mean who's to say he ain't trying to cook up some new Final Fantasy thingies to eat our brains and some shit."

Tony started smiling, "Very good Clint. I couldn't have said it better myself." He poked his finger into the baby's belly, gratifying some gurgles and an attack on his index. "Now go have a lie down. I'm sure that hurt something up there."

"Whatever I'm just saying, he worked hard to escape out that cell. Breaking out of S.H.I.E.L.D's strong hold ain't a picnic."

"Neither is dealing with Nick's attitude but we all manage just fine." Tony thought about the instant Loki came into the hospital ward that night and dissolved it from his mind. He'd had enough of remembering bad ju ju for one day. "He hasn't doesn't much to put us in the offensive. Maybe he's had a change of heart."

"Ha, like he'd had one in the first place. No, he's up to something. Ain't anybody able to change their skin that easily," Clint looked at his watch, then his dish and scanned the elevator. "I gotta jet. Weapon's inventory and all that. You understand."

"Sure do," Tony stood also, gathering Nio in his left arm and the swiping his desk clean of filth and extra tools. He knew better than to believe that excuse. "Tell Natasha that she'll enjoy the Pizza Gallery down on Fifth and Board."

The barb hit a shivering home run up Clint's spine. He turned a slow narrowed glare over his shoulder, "It's not even like that."

"As if you weren't wondering what those razor heels looked like up close."

Clint opened his mouth to strike a full dictionary of words for Tony's implications, but had to shut up fast when the elevator closed a little faster than usual.

Tony relaxed in a way he couldn't when around his teammates and hiked little Tony up on his chest, "What do you think we should today? A trip to the ice cream shop? A little shopping's always been some good." Baby Nio gurgled a spittle trail down his chin which Big Tony disgustedly swiped away with his thumb. "Messy little devil. Say it don't spray it. Ice cream shop it is."

Tony was leaning over the desk counter for his Key Panel and sorting over several files for the closest shop when he suddenly felt this sense of déjà vu burying in the pit of his stomach. He was debating between putting the baby on the floor and grabbing the closest weapon in range, or simply turning to face his assailant with nothing but his wit and luck of fortune.

He settled for a little of both. His arm anchored like bronze steel around Nio's body and his right reached for a monkey wrench, stretched around the entire swing.

Loki caught the tool between his middle and index, looking for the best part worn for wear, "Really Stark, is that anyway to treat your guests? I'd hate to image how your relatives are welcomed."

Tony let the utensil drop from his hand, "All of them would know not to come in here unannounced." He was relieved anyway to see Loki and memo-ed to himself to not get used to that sensation. "And," he looked Loki up and down with a revolted twitch. "What the hell happened to you? A meat grinder could've done a better job."

And that was putting it mildly. Loki was half supporting his weight on crooked leg in the center of the room, and he had a hand over his chest, wincing as blood seeped around his ash white fingers. Loki's lips formed a brief, painful smile, as he did something close to stepping forward. Even as badly broken in two as he was, Tony couldn't find a trance of a weak jerk in his stride. Tony inwardly flinched. He must be in really bad shape then.

He sighed against his better judgment as he placed Antonio on the spare quilt on the floor and tapped his nose, "Stay put." He chided and turned to face Loki. "Since you're just dying for me to ask, please tell me who did the honors?"

Loki bombed on forcing a glare over his squinting eye sight. "Only you would consider it an honor for me to be in this kind of pain." A shuddering breath later, Loki straightened and wobbled off balance, grateful for the desk corner's existence. "If it's all the same to you, I'd appreciate a seat to lighten the load."

"Right," Tony murmured. He checked over his shoulder, marked that Nio was just fine playing with his teething toys before searching around for a decent chair besides his own. Pain or no pain, Loki didn't have that honor to sit in Tony's favorite chair. He found a plastic picnic chair by Clint's metal nest and propped it behind Loki just as he found no use for his legs anymore.

Loki agonized through finding a good position, "Is this the best you can offer?"

"It's either that or the floor and believe me I'm tempted," Tony rolled his office chair around and steadied it in front of Loki, eyeing him with a speculating observation. "Now, start from point A to point B and let it be within a five minute time span. The kid's got a nap I've been waiting for all day."

Loki looked down beneath his hand then at the gutted gash across his chest and hissed as the sticky retreat unclosing what was already healed, "Bloody Masochists. I believe they got a real joy out of my suffering."

"Who?"

"Those who did this to me."

"Plural huh?" Tony nodded. "That'll explain why you came looking all banged up. No but really, I'm a fan of who ever got you this way. Share the juicy details."

Loki's glare was the most sinister Tony had ever seen, "You can rest assure that none of them will be wallowing in your praises any time soon." Loki licked over his bottom lip, strangling the rest of what he said like sipped razors, "Not a one of them will know my pain until its return tenfold."

Tony rolled his eyes, and stood. He wasn't going to get the answers he wanted it seemed. "Fabulous, so tell me where it hurts when I poke."

"No need," Loki stubbornly said. "I'm quite capable of healing my own skin." After a few moments of wobbling and swaying back and forth like a tower about to topple, Loki fixated his palm over the ball of his knee and concentrated a stream of green into his hand.

Tony stared. He retook his spot and looked on at the mending process that was nothing short of fascinating, "Why did you come all the way here if you could heal yourself?"

Loki's mouth gapped at a sickening loud snap, and sizzle sound like a struck can of soda. He swallowed around the sour bile and muttered softly, "I came for a concentrated shelter. Radical as it sounds, this was the first place to consider." He looked up from under the veil of black hair to the playing baby. "And I came to see how Zephyr was doing."

"_Antonio_ is doing just fine. As you can see since the last time you've seen him a month ago he's grown some teeth. Damn near chewed my finger off yesterday."

"Then he's adjusting well," Loki nodded to himself, carefully transporting the eerie green glow to his opposite wrist. Tony hadn't noticed the abstract way it hung loosely until flicked back as if roughly jolted by electricity.

"So, what really happened?" Tony questioned at least, his eyebrows creeping up slowly, and then turned over his shoulder when Antonio suddenly squealed. It was nothing. He was just having a chat with one of the plastic rings.

Loki took his time to answer. Whether that was for the lapse of waiting for the punch line that normally followed or deep rooted concentration, "Giving away sensitive information isn't without its consequences, Tony Stark. Being in the high standards you are in this world, you should know how betraying it is if one of your associates was leaking valuable secrets."

He'd be downright pissed if the scenarios were switched. "Why do you hang out with that lot? I can't think of you being bored enough to tag along with a bunch of villains you know are going to jail eventually."

"As surprising as it may seem to you," Loki stiffly grunted as he enhanced a ball of glowing color against his chest now. "I find their limited malice towards humanity amusing."

"So you get a kick out of watching them fail?" Yeah Tony could respect that to some discomforting degree.

"And I'm not particularly overwhelmed with other options of company, now am I?"

Tony wrenched a short snort, "That's your own fault there. We could've easily been close associates if you'd picked a better time to come to earth, and chatted over a shot. "

"Indeed," Loki said and finally lifted his hand off the torn ripples of his robe and relaxed in a way Tony thought he'd never see the sorcerer do in front of another; complete spared of his rigid poise, common faced sneer and lines absolutely vacant on his expression. It was a look he should put on more often. "Stark."

Tony bunched his eyebrows.

Loki took that as he wanted, "I'll be taking my leave of this planet soon. I've held up my end of the deal so far as our contract allows."

"Well, I can't stop you from leaving, but give my regards to Thor."

Loki paused, then "Zephyr is to come along when that time arrives."

Tony's face went granite hard. "Over my dead body. The brat's staying with me." He'd never thought his own voice could sound so feral.

"I think not," the shrill of scrapping crackles flew around in that instant. Loki rose from his chair with the lucidly of a fully reciprocated man. He rolled his wrist once and a blur whistled past Tony before he saw the little bundle nestled in Loki's arm. "I'll be taking him with me for now. You've invested enough of your influence then I care to allow."

Tony bunched his bottom lip between his teeth, clutching and unclutching his fists, "I'm warning you Loki, don't—"

"Your warnings mean little if not backed up with that ghastly machine," Loki took a step back. He dared not take another when Antonio did the unthinkable and began squirming violently in his arms. The baby whimpered, he flailed his arms wildly and soon his cries pierced the cores of wine glasses. Loki couldn't hold him still. "What's gotten into you lad?"

Antonio shrilled pass ear splitting, kicking his face and face transforming a dangerous shade of red. Tony panicked. "Give him here!" He didn't wait; he ran straight to them and uncoiled Loki's arms from the thrashing baby. Antonio's crying dampened but the tears seemed forever. He wept and wound his fingers into Tony's shirt as a desperate cling to life itself. Tony cupped the back of his head and squatted down to the floor, heart racing, breathing a labored ruin. He didn't know what came over him or how he suddenly felt drained when it looked like Antonio would really be taken away.

This feeling—it scared him shitless.

"I know not what your aim is boy, but you know we cannot stay," Loki laid his hand down and drew back when Antonio looked about to cry a while ago. Loki sat back stunned, "Is this how it will be Zephyr? You would really choose this Misgardian over me? Over your own flesh and blood?"

Tony opened his eyes at the broken irritation blanketing the silence to follow. Loki if at all possible, sounded a cross between regretful and angry. Tony held Antonio like the devil himself would come and take him, but there was the strangest emotion to come suspiciously close to guilt, as if he were keeping something away that needed to be returned.

Antonio lifted his head up, his swelled face streaked wet in saline sorrow, "Mmm."

Loki jerked back and frowned, "Is that how you see him? More valuable than me? The one who bled my own blood to keep you alive? Zephyr, we've got other priorities to address. You were never meant to stay on this world."

Antonio buried his face against Tony's neck and whimpered pitifully. "Enough Loki," Tony had enough of hearing whatever was going on and backed away. "Whatever bullshit you're saying needs to end. You're talking to this baby like he's a goddamn man!"

Silence, pure unadulterated silence couldn't have been as thick tensed as it was now. The very air in the workshop felt heavier and harder to breathe. Tony stayed frozen where he was, as did Loki. If it weren't for knowing Loki wouldn't kill Antonio, Tony knew that wickedly deviant glare would've disintegrated between the cracks of the steel-less floors.

"I see," Loki said at last. "Bewitched by the likes of you Tony Stark, I'm even appalled to believe I understand why he is." He chuckled humorlessly and walked forward.

Tony braced himself when his hip bumped him trapped between flipping over the desk and Loki doing whatever he was about to do. Tony reached behind his back. Loki reached out his hand.

The movements were fast. Tony's hand flew around with a large wench, ducking the baby under his chin. Loki wrapped his arm around Tony's waist and tugged forward, the other hand grasping his wrist midair, over their heads. Loki mumbled something below a whisper and Tony's entire arm numbed, on its own. His fingers drooped and the wench fell from his hand. Loki's expression was iron weighed, drawn lines creasing around his lips and brow.

"You're not taking him," Tony gritted through his teeth against the full bodied pressing pushing him into the table. The metal rile was eating through his hip. "You'll die trying."

Loki looked unimpressed, "I won't for now," he said too softly and dropped Tony's useless hand to trail through the top of Antonio's downy hairs. "You've chosen wisely little one," he whispered in the baby's ear and looked pointedly to Tony's face.

Tony went as still as stone. Loki used his only opportunity to lean in, warmth shared, breathing a mingled trade. Green devoured the entirety of sable brown. "I don't know what he sees in you Tony Stark, but I intend to break that bond," he promised in a single set.

Tony swallowed every dry spot in his throat, never breaking eye contact, "Good fucking luck trying."

"Oh I will," Loki vanished without warning.

Tony stumbled when the support of Loki's body fell away. He felt all the air absorb back in his lungs as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. Shit. Damn, he thought Loki was going to take him out _again_. God. If that weren't enough. . .—Tony looked down and noticed the extra limb pointing the same direction Loki had been.

Yeah. Turned on by the ways of a psychotic kitty. What were the odds?

The elevator doors binged open. Bruce stepped out. He looked at Tony, the baby and then looked down. Tony sighed.

Bruce didn't say a word. He simply walked in, never straying from Tony's gaze and took the baby. He still didn't look away. He cradled the baby as if it was his precious virginity and kept the moon walk stride going until he reached the elevator and disappeared upstairs.

Tony dragged a hand down his face and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Not only was he going to have to think of how to keep Loki away but, now he had to comtemplate how he was he going to convince Bruce he wasn't a pedophile?

* * *

Loki hadn't strayed far from Tony's home. He'd taken a leave only to collect his will. Zephyr's defense was, in a way, disorienting to say the least. But this worked in his favor. He would give the child his granted reprieve until Loki could think of another way to go about his plans. If the boy wanted so desperately to cling to Stark, for the time being, he would let him. Why take him away from the first piece of happiness he'd had since he was born?

Loki knew as soon as he heard the barrel of thunder injure the sky that Thor wasn't far from him. He needn't consider fleeing. Thor wasn't going to do harm; it wasn't in his nature to do so. Thor arrived at his side wrapped in pale light and stared at him with silent, burning eyes. Loki didn't spare him a glance. "You've come a long way for disagreement Thor."

"Loki," Thor swallowed against the bile of betrayal and tried with what was searing his stomach. "Brother, you've gone through enough for the sake of this child. If you want for mother and father to welcome you home, you know what must be done."

"I will not," Loki calmly and coolly conveyed. "If what Odin wants is for me to do the unspeakable, then consider us both enemies until the end of time. I needn't his love or his affection any longer to survive as I once did."

"But the law states—"

"You forget, _brother_," Loki cut through, his voice sharper than razors. "Allfather has made it quite clear how he sees me and where I stand amongst the House of Odin. I will not take less than what I deserve." He wasn't going to reveal no more than that. Thor's ignorance to his true heritage was information he didn't need. "Be grateful, I no longer wish for that now. I am not welcomed on Asgard, therefore whatever law you want to brand on me is meaningless."

Thor's shoulders deflated every drop of fight he had as he bowed his head back to the heavens, "We—I only want what we had once before, Loki. I want my brother home. I want for us to be at peace in mind, body and spirit. We only have one obstacle standing between us for that."

Loki actually laughed out at that, "And that's to have me do what you and Allfather are too cowardly to do yourselves? No, I will not dirty my hands with such a sin. If you so badly want to be rid of that child, then soil your greedy hearts and do it yourselves." His green eyes darkened the deepest shade. "But be forewarned, you will have a war upon you and I will fight to keep him alive. I will not do upon him what you've done to me."

"What have I done except be the best brother to you!"

"You were my brother, Thor. At a time I believe you thought your love to be true. However," Loki kneeled in the skies, gazing through the towers of transparent glass. Tony Stark, he could see, has come from underground with the baby in his arms, rocking him to and fro. He smirks, Loki ponders the expression and stares away. "I can be something to him you refused to be to me."

Thor's silenced pressed for Loki to reach his point.

And Loki did with the first smile Thor hadn't seen since they were children; one free of malice, cruelty and intent for murder. It was the peak of warmth that melted ice.

"I will show Zephyr that he can be my equal . . . That he needn't worry about his brother ever thinking he'd be anything less than special." Then Loki vanished, the flash of green not enough to distract Thor's gaze from the window panel where Tony held the baby.

* * *

**TBC: Still got a ways to go, but I'm pretty happy about this chapter. What do you think of the developments? ^_^**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Rant:** My word what a response. Well my dears, the majority rules for Mpreg. For those of you who won't be staying I hate to see you depart but I cannot force anyone to read my story. However if you'll reconsider staying, I can assure you, despite sounding smug, that this Mpreg won't be the common base randomness you've read by many. The progress is gradual; it won't involve Tony losing his masculinity which in itself is weird and he has become my chosen option, or focus fully on the entire pregnancy's process. The symptoms as well as other medical/magical reactions will be explained and I thank you all for participating. Please enjoy ^_^

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"The decoder files were sent to the navigation system yesterday. Genesis through levels eight and nineteen were analyzed for virus properties, but none was detected. You should receive the results and next week's schedule meetings in your email by this afternoon," Tony's finger tips adeptly aligned the vanilla cream folders on his desk according to alphabetical preference whilst maintaining diligent interests towards the trialing voice. "No, No, there will be results McConnell, you can be assured. I play with many things, but my business will never be a toy."

Life did move on as well enough as it could get. Two weeks passed without a hint of retaliation on Loki's part. That could be seen as either a fortunate windfall, or binding time for when the real shit would unfold. There was never a way for telling when it came to Loki. The unpredictability of what he could do was probably what agitated Tony more so than the headache he's been experiencing lately.

He's ignored it as being a side effect due to lack of sleep. Every waking minute's been revolving around boosting JARVIS security scanners, enhancing detection of magic within a five hundred meter radius of the tower and his homes, and then there was Antonio. Tony never left him alone for a minute. He didn't let anyone take him away and perhaps it was out of paranoia but all joking aside, he assumed it was out of instinct to keep the brat close.

Loki could be anywhere, anyone, doing who knows what. Tony wouldn't play by his game to make getting the boy an easy grab. No, this bastard was going to have to unhook the baby from his bare hands.

"I've arranged for every file to be copy mailed to the Renona Corp. last week; from there you'll just have to hope for the best McConnell. I can't force people to," Tony snapped his head to the side when he heard rapid thumping, "No!" His voice carried across the room to the infant like a strike of lightning. Antonio shook with a terrible jolt, blue eyes wide as saucers.

"No," Tony added a little strongly. The shoe in Antonio's hand fell from his nubby fingers, his pout swelled on his bottom lip joined by a tremble. "Not you John, I was talking to my, to my," Tony snapped his fingers a few times but he couldn't placement the word he needed. "As I was saying expect some results in a week, maybe sooner. I'll have my assistant send the list of negatives . . . No; thank you Mr. McConnell, you daughter was a real pleasure." Tony hung up the phone, sinking bonelessly into his leather chair.

In between being a masked crusader, dodging Loki's magic bullets, and running Stark Enterprises, a headache was a mild interference in his life but it sure was hell wasn't making things easy. Tony massaged and squeezed at the throbbing pressure around his temples but only found relief every once in a while. He'd feel it there for hours on end and just as suddenly as it appeared, the pain would vanish. "Damn," his head lollied to the side, eyes closed in a concentrated bliss before sliding his index over the intercom. "Pep."

"Yes?" She buzzed back.

"I need drugs. Something strong enough to knock out an elephant."

". . . Aspirin it is."

"Can it put Dumbo out?"

"It can put Tony Stark out."

Tony smiled, "That'll work." He dropped the connection and crossed his legs, interlocking his fingers over his lips. Think, think, think. It seemed he's been doing a lot of that lately and sad as it was, he tried to get the subject of those thoughts as far away as humanly possible. It was either Loki this or Loki that. The bastard either had a spell set on boggling Tony's mind with images of him or Tony really was as sick as he was horny whenever the man got close enough to him.

_Thump_

Tony was confused for a moment, then remembered, "Antonio," he turned around from where he was staring out the window and frowned at the baby. "Down, put it down," He motioned with his finger in a downward gesture. Antonio had his baby shoe drenched between his gums, gnawing away at the leather bootie like caramel candy.

The shoe fell, "Mm," Antonio squeaked.

"Don't mm me."

"Mm," Antonio smacked his chubby jaws, tiny tongue poking in and out, in and out. "Mmm," He turned the shoe in his hands, gurgling to it, smacking the side and soon it went right back to being a chew toy.

"Damn it," Tony half debated on letting the kid soil the shoe as much as he wanted. Majority ruled to let him do as he pleased until the door to his office opened and he surged up stalking straight for him. "Nio, no. Bad Nio, bad."

Pepper held up the ice water and pills in both hands, looking between her boss circling his desk and the baby sitting about five meters away; alone.

"Kids," he said with the baby on his chest. "Can't get the little bastards to listen these days." He patted the baby's head. "So how's my favorite Obese Procreator?"

"As well as anyone gaining another twenty pounds," Pepper replied, manicured eyebrow brushing her hairline. "I wouldn't go with obese just yet."

"What, you kidding? You're a glowing heart attack," Tony took the medicine in one gulp and down the water giving one smacking hiss against the icy chill. "If I wanted someone to model a double cheeseburger, you'd be the first on my list."

Pepper smiled anyway, "You're too kind." She saved her eye roll for another time and reached out to the squirming little boy. "Hey sweetie, is Tony being a jerk to you again?"

Tony looked at her, then the baby, "I'm not the one who dressed him in this outfit. So I'm a jerk?" The outfit being a puff legged Tigger romper and matching hat ears to boot. "The poor sap doesn't know his Disney from his Harry Potter."

"I think it's cute."

"You would," Tony shifting Antonio from one arm to the other to keep his tie from being soaked with baby drool. Pepper handed him a napkin, "Do you have anything else I need to sign today?" He asked, dabbing away.

"Actually yes," Pep left and was back with a short stack in no time. "I need these signed."

Tony waited for her to lay them out one by one on his desk. He grabbed a black pen and headed over, scribbling his name on wherever she pointed. "How's the pregnancy?" He questioned in between signing.

"Fine, its fine—here too," Pepper eased each page back for a new set. "Feeling a little heavier but that's to be expected."

"How's huh," He snapped his fingers again, thinking hard. "Shoot, Edward, Eddy, Lego, Elk, Peter—"

"Elmo?"

"Yeah, the toy with no rhythm," Tony bent over to sign more. "How's he doing?"

"Taking it one day at a time. He won't leave me alone for two minutes. I take a piss, he has to be there to be sure it's clean."

Tony's retort was perched on the tip of his tongue until Antonio started trying to crawl up to his neck. "Babe, settle down will ya?" Tony hiked the baby on his hip and went back to scratching down his name.

Pepper grinned to herself. "Need me to get him?"

"Nope, I got him," He met her gaze, her maple brown eyes glittered with sweet glee. She was thinking what he knew what she was thinking and he didn't like knowing what she was thinking. He rolled his eyes and sighed irritated, "Shut it Pep."

Her smile spread wide, "Why? I didn't say a word."

"Get it out of your head."

Pepper gathered the freshly signature stack, propping them on the desk top until they collected neatly into an even pile. Her face was as clear as crystal flutes.

He knew that look. Tony frowned, "Stop smiling."

"I'm not smiling."

"You're thinking about smiling."

"I'm thinking of a lot of things," She held up her pinkie, wiggling it up and down. She flashed a smile and left the pair to themselves, a soft laugh in her wake.

With the door closed, Tony was left alone with the baby humming into his neck. "Sleepy munchkin?" Tony tsk'ed his lips, rocking from side to side. Pepper was thinking way too deep into this. Maybe she a good reason to, but it was still annoying. Antonio didn't entirely have Tony wrapped around his finger. Tony just, well, he just found himself tolerating the brat with an easier open mind. Keeping him around wasn't all that bad. So why couldn't Tony enjoy the kid's company? "Hey, you wanna go get some ice cream? Huh?"

Antonio sucked on his fist, looking up to Tony with bright eyed happiness.

"Yeah, I think ice cream sounds good," Tony was already walking over to his desk, pressing the red button, "Pep, cancel everything I don't feel like doing today. Me and the kid are taking off."

A hesitated giggle came back, "Will do."

Well if that wasn't just a big slap in the face. Tony shrugged it off, determining her behavior a discussion for another time. He'd blame it on overactive hormones. He put Antonio on the desk while he reached around for his briefcase, filling all of today's information in the compartment. He jumped when Antonio suddenly squealed at the top of his lungs, clapping and kicking his feet. "Damn brat," Tony had a hand over his chest. "What's wrong with you?"

Antonio gurgled, scooting his bottom to the other side of the desk like an inch worm. "Mm," He squeaked again. Tony looked at him. Antonio smiled each tiny tooth at the window. Each wide glass panel circled the entire office as tall as a two story house and as wide as a master bedroom. Overlooking looking the city from this height was a pleasure, seeing the specks of life carry on with a care in the world. The air conditioning vents tended to fog the outer rims of the transparent sections from time to time and this was one of those times.

Tony glared out the window, gazing at nothing but the everyday scenery. His shabby eyebrow quirked, "Going crazy in your young age, Squirt?" He shook his head, palming the side of his face on impulse for his headache. Surprisingly, it wasn't there. The same as always, Tony gave a sighed relief that it was gone, putting him twice of a better mood. "Alright kiddo, time to roll." He plucked the baby from the desk top and left, unseeing the way Antonio reached out to the window and not realizing the pair of sage eyes following behind.

* * *

Loki felt better than he had in days, but the auras and spiraling magic's under his skin still writhed, unstable and for some reason beyond his speculation as to why. The imbalance put him in the mind of remembering all the strolls he'd read, studying and wondering if he'd slipped passed an important detail. The first time this spasm occurred had been when he'd left the stronghold from that ghastly place Thor wandered from time to time.

The next incident had been spaced but not as unpleasant as the first. It was an odd sensation where the balls of his fingers numbed, the soles of his feet perspired and as soon as it happened, they disappeared with equal lack of understanding. Loki was sent into a state of meditation for hours, looking through his core for the leak, for a stab into his defenses that would perhaps explain why he couldn't get a hold of his magic's spiritual fluctuations. The hibernated retrospect left little to conclude. He found no such intrusion internally or externally within the physical plane.

A few moments of deeper reflection found far fewer results. His mentality is as strong willed as ever. But then what else could it be to ensnare his magic's incorporation? He'd battled with its defiance and often enough had to slash it down with his bare words to keep it tamed. Green glows, murky sparks of emerald would tangle and coil around Loki's hands, his arms, his face, as if it were caressing his body for permission. "What is it you seek so badly?" He would question to himself.

There would be no returned answer of course. The mystic energies would evaporate as soon as he asked and slink back into storage. Loki pondered the behavior and soon let the confusion dissolve for a better issue to focus on. As of right now, his magic wasn't devouring his attention as his eyes were on the interactions yards ahead. He sat perched on the edge of a metallic fortress, just at the perfect height to spy on his young brother's welfare.

Zephyr was blending into the Midgardian culture wonderfully. Loki knew that was Tony Starks doing as well as the help of those other influencing heroes but all of it revolving around the baby's chosen guardian. The bond was strong and only strengthening by the moment. No doubt Stark was feeling the effects in his sub-consciousness, but he is too much of a stubborn fool to let the events unfold.

Loki kept his distance for as long as his body would allow as well as need to protect what little family he truly held. Loyalty, he dared now blamed it on. Commitment, no he could not say. It was warmer, a deep dedication to watch over the young Frost Giant; another prodigy of Laufey like Loki was.

Loki remembered the day as clear as any when he'd arrived on Jotunheim the day before the ambush on Asgard. It'd been another arrangement with Laufey to ensure the route of attack went as smoothly as it would so that any evidence of treason was pronounced.

. . . . . . .

The meeting lasted for the entirety of the day, well into the chilled night. Loki had gone through the stages of bitterness like the nibbling shards of ice feasting on his skin. The deal was secured, the time set in motion and as he'd turned to leave, he heard the cry of a baby coming from a distance. He'd thought nothing more of it as a more welcomed party of his own people as he wasn't. That is, until the baby's cries were muffled silent. Loki looked back against his better judgment to see why.

Laufey held the baby by his head, the whole of his hand covering the runt like a palmed fruit. "What is it you're doing?"

Laufey looked at him with red speculation, "Offing away the weak. My people have no need for powerless limbs, when the body needs only strength."

"You will lop off the head of your own flesh and blood?" Loki found himself questioning on impulse. "Out of spite for weakness?"

"This boy is worth as little as the snow that melts on contact," Laufey squeezed harder, the baby whimpered. "No pity for the weak, no care for the useless."

Loki stepped on, eating away the distance between himself and the Frost King, "Then I'll have him, add the boy as part of our contract for your world's recovery. I'll return for him after the war is over."

"What will you have me do with him between then and now?" Laufey loosened his grip but only enough for the baby's head to squirm. "He will die in a day or so. No offspring is able to weather the chill of ice with a body this small."

"Then lock him away in confinement. I know you have the sources to keep your people alive while in a weakened state. Do the same for this child, I will come back to claim what you no longer want."

The silence to follow was deafening, cold, stretched. Laufey took his time to answer back before he handed the baby off to one of his soldiers, "Fine, he's spared for the moment. Do keep in mind, the Ice Caps can only stand for a fortnight. I hold no responsibilities if the child should die when it melts."

"I will have returned before then. Simply keep your end of the bargain and you'll have another reason to seek eternal glory."

. . . . . . .

It hadn't been long after that Loki escaped the Bifrost's tunnel and landed elsewhere through the Nine. He'd recovered, gained the power needed for vengeance and came to Midgard for purposes he dare not speak of any longer. It'd been through sheer luck that he'd gone to Jotunheim to look for Zephyr, to find him locked away in a tomb of towering ice and translucent shields. The Jotun's hadn't approached or cared if he wanted the baby. He was taken there without trouble or attempted attack.

Loki concentrated a single bolt of lightning through the core and as the ice crackled like broken glass, he eased into the center and gather the barely breathing baby in his arms. He'd asked the Ice Giants for the child's name to discover he had none. They didn't name those who wouldn't be around enough to use it. Loki fixed that problem; Zephyr fitted the name of his brother just fine. He'd take care of what Laufey was a fool to cherish. Loki say within the boy a piece of himself that longed for peace and warmth. Zephyr had woken up, crimson pools glazed over with fatigue and death. He reached out for care, his arms were fleshy flaps of bone, his face a sunken hollow. Loki trance his finger over the baby's skin, and as he had the rise of his native skin aroused through his pores until he looked at back the baby with eyes of the same red shade.

Loki cared for the baby in secret since then. Up until he was captured and defeated by the Avengers a year ago. He was betrayed by the Frost Giants that spoke to Allfather of a second baby Laufey bore from another. The decision for the child's execution was evitable after that. Loki could only escape for a moment to send his brother to earth in between punishments.

Now he was here, safe, secure, for once . . . not having to be concerned over death—

Loki blinked just as a calming drain pulled at his energy. His ears tingled with an all too familiar squeal coming from a far. He looked back into the Stark building seeing Zephyr welcome him with gummy mirth and clapping joy. A soft tilt of Loki's lips tugged on one side as he flexed his fingers in a single wave under his chin. The baby scooted closer, squealing and teasing until Tony was also drawn to the window.

Tony Stark would not see what Loki wouldn't allow him to see. He stayed as he was and then, Loki frowned when he noticed his magic's contentment. It settled, relaxed to a smooth languid as silky as flowing velvet. "Hm," Loki grimly thinned his lips figuring between the when and how his magic and decided to take a tamer stance. He hadn't realized it'd happened until just now.

Then he looked up as Stark rose with baby in hand, going to the door. Zephyr reached out to Loki, his way of wanting him to follow. Loki obliged and dropped from the skyscraper in an airless descent. He would think about the feel of balance later. For now, he had to keep an eye the events to follow. He had to know something.

* * *

The leads still came much to Tony's own inner enjoyment. Another week passed with no sign of Loki but he still kept his end of the supposed deal conjured between them. The next go around was probably the most amusing and maybe impressive. An old school fame or ex-flame of Thor's was found prancing about the city seeking out his love and devotion by way of sucking out his soul.

Thor wasn't pleased or amused.

Clint was a little of both.

Tony didn't feel up to punching dames and left the dirty work to Hulk. He held back no restraints when he rolled back his left hook and clocked the blonde haired green eyed beauty with enough power to crack a MACH Truck. She was fine, but her face was going to need more than a dab of make-up. She cursed Loki's unseen form to the pit of her soul and vowed vengeance in the worst kind of way. Thor struck her with a bolt of lightning to silence the rest of her threats.

There was a meeting that same night set up by Steve: Lessons on how to treat a lady, regardless if they're evil, sexually attractive and out for blood.

Afterwards, Tony wasn't surprised to learn that all good things came with a price. When Loki contacted him, he did it in such a way that slipped through the Avenger's defenses entirely. A young fan of his came knocking on the door no more than the age of five, asking for Iron Man's autograph. She was adorable, bright shimmering green eyes, a round plump face as sweet as sugar plums and a smile warm enough to melt chocolate. The parchment of paper she held out reflected like a mirage, showing the message as a child's drawing in the sunlight, but when turned in a way, Tony could make out each word.

_Stark,_

_It grows harder each day remembering that I once called you Man of Iron since it _was_ the most intimate we've been toward one another. __You have been a nuisance to me since the day I arrived on your world and since, a further problem that refuses to be resolved. I suppose I should have realized that your irritation persona would diminish simply because we share a single connection and that's through the child._

_But I was wrong._

_I require a meeting with you. A placed called Café Lalo. The time will be 1:00 when the fog is relaxed and the moon in the midst of retiring. If you are as important to Zephyr as I am, then I have no ill-will to cause conflict or harm upon your life and I ask that the same be returned. Come alone without the company of your comrades; hold consent to no violence and I will return the same courtesy. I pledge by the Nine that I will only speak of importance without manipulation. I'll be dressed in Midgardian garb, being who I am, but not who I am. Do keep our __rendezvous__ secret._

_I'm sure someone as mastered in the ways of deceit as you, should manage a simple task._

_Loki Laufeyson. _

Tony stared at the letter for several long moments. His first impulse had been to disregard it altogether, but he held the paper between pressed fingertips, curiosity eating at him more than suspicion. Tony looked down to find the little girl gone.

* * *

Tony knew it the moment Loki showed up. He could feel a sudden increase of prickled spikes raking down his spine liked hooked fish blades. The café stayed during the weekend until four in the morning. One o'clock was its weakest hour for customers. Tony was dressed in a thin Forzieri black leather jacket, a plain white tee and dark blue jeans, sunglasses perched on the top of his nose. However Loki planned to look, Tony didn't want to be seen with him.

"Would you care for another cup of coffee sir?" the waitress asked kindly.

"No, I'm fine," Tony waved her off. "I'll call you when I need your sweet service, Doll." He lowered his glasses and winked.

The girl giggled to herself, fingers covering her mouth as she shyly scurried away, blushing as mad as a ripened berry.

"Quite the philander aren't you," Loki appeared around Tony's side, the vision of impecciable taste and elegance. He was, as his letter stated, himself, yet not himself. He forward in the form of a tall, regel looking gentleman, poised from head to toe. His hair was shorter, chopped at the nap of his neck, a sandy blond shade, his skin not as pale, a sunnier bronze, but those eyes didn't change. They were possibly his only giveaway for being the tainted malice he was. "Your libido discriminates no one does it?"

"Jealousy is a green eyed monster."

"Ignorance is just as bliss," Loki lightly chuckled, removing his leather gloves off his hands.

Tony made a show of checking his watch, lowering his glasses to the bridge of his nose, "You're lucky. Anytime a date isn't here before me, I order the whole menu in their name."

"I wouldn't put the deed pass you. You have the natural face of mischief," Loki sat across the table from him, placing a polished wooden crane to his right. "As well as a knack for deception," Loki waved his hand in the air, eyes a twinkle.

Something snapped and buzzed.

Tony rolled his eyes and pulled out the speaker phone now a useless shot of unraveling cords and wires. That was his only connection to the tower in case Loki decided to pull a trap. There was no choice but to wing along and see if what the devil had in mind. "You're good."

"I'm not as ignorant to your technology as you believed," Loki snapped his fingers. The waitress came to his beckoning. He ordered his beverage and when she was out of ear range, Loki folded his arms over the table, leaning in as far as he could. "I'm sure you're wondering why I summoned you."

"In the middle of the night, in a place where no one can reach me within a time frame of ten minutes, and as vulnerable as a newborn?" Tony shrugged once, hands deep in his pockets. "Yeah, safe bet that I'm a bit put off, but not worried." He removed and folded his sunglasses. Tony wanted to see the steel planted firm in his eyes. "You're still got getting the kid from me. Come hell or high water, I told you you'll die trying."

"Really Stark, have more trust in me," Loki nodded his gratitude to the woman when she lift his steaming Frappuccino. "I swore peace in my letter, didn't I?"

"Right, sorry if I'm insensitive to liars," Tony settled back in his chair. "I forgot you tend to wear our insecurities like a second skin."

"Mmm," Loki sipped his mug, eyes closed in a blissful relief, "Well placed drink, you have here. I've enjoyed quite a few in my spare time."

Tony was silent, focused and concentrated on figuring out what Loki's aim was. What his motive could possibly be. What did he want?—

"As blank as your face is Tony Stark, you don't fool me."

Loki's voice snapped through Tony's thoughts like a whip.

"You keeping asking, questioning, wondering what it is I seek from you."

Tony praised himself for recovering as fast as he did, "What sane person wouldn't? You've given me not one reason to trust you Loki, nor I you." Tony sat up, eyes narrowed as thin as paper slits. "What the hell do you want?"

"To test a theory, a way of course, to see if what I'm assuming is indeed true or false," Loki placed his cup to the side, green dampening a dark hue. "Have you been experiencing anything out of the ordinary in your daily life? Anything peculiar?"

"Besides you asking to meet me here? No, not at all."

"Not even. . ." Loki leaned in. "The slightest kind of pressure? Pains? . . . Even Arousal?"

Tony leaned in as well, "Not so much as a scratch. In any case I've been much better since we haven't seen each other. This is the first time I've felt sick and I wonder if it's because of the _unwanted_ company?"

Loki took his time leaning away, a smile devouring his face like a fresh wave of ice, "You presume so much. Can it really be blamed on the company or rather on the man who is oblivious to all the happenings around him?"

Tony didn't hesitate to say, "I've been through enough to know what is and what isn't supposed to happen. You? I wish _was_ apart of the latter."

Loki pursed his lips, than ran his tongue over the bottom in thought. Tony squirmed back averting his eyes away from the coral drag. "I see," Loki said at last after a tensed silence. "Perhaps I misinterpreted . . . Hm," He shook his head, standing with cane in hand. "Apparently I misjudged my own opinion Tony Stark, you'll forgive my wrongly placed comtemplation," Loki reached inside his pocket, palming across the table a crisped one hundred dollar bill. "I'll take care of this."

"Wait, what is his about" Tony reached out every finger, coiling tight around Loki's wrist.

Loki froze. Tony paused and frowned hard when a pulse came roaring into his hand as sharp as a bolt of electricity. The shiver ran between a white fire, and a blistering chill. The sensation was remarkably terrifying; almost a surge of beating.

Green met dark sable brown as it fluttered and fastened into a knot. Tony jerked his hand but it didn't move. Loki reached out to cup over his hand and just as he had before the pulse of his magic spun off its axel. A searing spark, blazed out.

Tony snatched his hand back, looking at the skin for possible scorch marks, but saw none or felt the remnants of second degree burns. It was that quick, that subtle. He looked up to find Loki gone. Tony stood, looking around the café, seeing no one but himself, and the two employees who worked inside. Loki had disappeared.

Tony looked down on his palm. The surface was tinted a blushing scarlet. The radiance was warm, but when he dared to touch it a spike of frost bloomed to the core of his bones. Tony shook his head, reaching inside his pocket for a bill and slapping it on the table. "Keep the change," he called over his shoulder before the waitress could ask.

He needed to get home. He didn't know what the hell that was, or what it meant. It just freaked him out of this world. "What the fuck just happened."

* * *

**TBC: Thanks you guys who voted this story will be longer now that I have a clearer aim. I'll try my hardest to develop a one of a kind Mpreg so much different from the rest ^_^**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Rant: **Thank you all for your participation.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

* * *

The headaches were like a time bomb it felt sometimes. On and off, like the stir of an avalanche, no warning what so ever for when they'll appear or how intense the damage would be. Tony wasn't given a set interval to prepare for the rushing pulses, or the agonizing throbs that stole away a decent day's worth of peace for every time they came. Those that operated late at night were among the worse and only expanded like a pounding anvil when Antonio started to cry. Tony was thankful the brat managed to stay asleep during the most trying nights because Tony was sure he wouldn't be able to deal with a baby with enough lung power to fuel a blimp or a migraine that'd make a heart attack proud.

Tony woke up with a gritted hiss, moonshine floodlighting the lower end of his bed. He tunneled his face into the pillows, scouring around the bed spread for that comfortable position so subtly lost from the slightest movement. In the middle of the tossing and disgruntled flips, Tony yawned himself half way through sleep and when he met the dark shadows of the room, scowled.

The first sleep he'd had in a while since these headaches and he wakes up in the middle of the night?

"Damn it," He groaned, folding his pillow on either side of his face. "Sleep, come on, back to sleep."

Tony drowned out his chants with a sharp tsk'ed sound to his lips and rolled on his back, staring onward into the ceiling. His body was nude save for the pair of cream cotton pajamas; the blankets were a tangled ruin around his waist, bunched and tightly knotted to leave a pinch in the middle of his back.

Those were annoying as hell.

But then, so strangely, he frowned, a wondrous calm overlapping his mind as he slowly, very slowly elbowed his way half way up and when in proper stance, brought his right hand up to massage his temple. Finger tips like barbed heat packs rotated against his temple in clockwise circles.

There wasn't anything there. Not so much as a mild flutter.

Well shit.

Guess miracles did happen at the weirdest times. Only bad side to this was now that he was awake, he automatically became restless and staying in bed wasn't an option. Sleep eluded him in a way that didn't affect many; once he was up, that was the end of that.

Remembering the usual routine, also made Tony notice another odd sensation. The room felt strange, off key somehow. Then he frowned at another detail he'd missed. He felt stuffed, constricted. Most of his upper arms, his chest and brow were filmed with an honest sweat, downright drenched. He was clammy and sticky. "What the hell?" He murmured, palming over his skin as if it turned a new color. "JARVIS, what's the temperature?"

"_Current room temperature is stabled at 73 degrees, sir_. _Shall I alternate the thermostat?"_

"No, leave it." Tony pressed the heel of his palm over his eyes, rubbing off the dry sting, "Was it always like that?"

"_Yes sir, no changes were made to the air circulation since 12:37 yesterday afternoon."_

Oh. It was probably just him then. Yeah, it had to be. "How's the kid?"

"_Sleeping sound. He woke up a few minutes before you but fell back asleep. I had one of the DUM-E units bring a pacifier to ease his nerves."_

"Good, good," One less problem to deal with. "I'm thinking of a midnight stroll. Watch him until I get back."

"_You don't sound up to par for a mere stroll sir. Would lowering the room temperature suffice for better pleasure?"_

"JARVIS, so naughty. Did I really program that kind of mindset in your system?"

The AI system would've sighed had he not the patience, "_So late at night and still the comedian. You do your audience proud."_

"That I do," Tony swung his legs over the bed, stiffing another yawn and hung his head in his palms. It was still kind of hot though. This room was too stifling, cramped and microscopic. He needed some fresh air and he needed it immediately.

He got up off the mattress and went for the closet, pushing open the doors and walking inside. He strolled beyond the rows of expensive name brands, the suits and wall of shoes, searching for something light. He was burning up, the sweat on his skin making him feel like the inside of a glove. Tony pulled a white wife beater from an unopened pack, and tugged on a pair of navy blue jersey shorts. He grabbed some plain black ankle socks and looked to debate on getting some house shoes.

He couldn't decide fast enough. He needed fresh air more, needed to get out of this heat.

The walk-on balcony through the sliding glass doors would have to do. It was closer than the Disarmer Walkway and if the brat woke up, Tony could be in range to reach him.

The flow of late evening breezes stole his breath away as soon as his feet touched down on the round structured glass balustrade balcony. He had it installed three months after the tower was finished, needing a special place to offer his thoughts to nothing and marinate it all in silence. Out here, where all that accompanied him was the overwhelming view of the city and the tangled roars of a sleepless rural, it was his own safe haven. A place he really needed now.

Tony kept the sliding door cracked, the barks of chill nailing his arms like thumb tacks, a sensation welcomed with open embrace. The fall was steadily creeping on the world by the tiniest slithers. He coughed and looked up to the sky, as clear and open as a day in the desert. The stars were monstrously many and bunched tighter then thread. It was beautiful.

Tony climbed his way higher up a small stairwell, circling and thinking, strolling and thinking, listening to nothing and thinking. He let the thoughts run rapid. Tony eased down on his arms on the railing, the winds whipping against his hair and flapping the sheets of his shorts. He needed a moment to figure some of the things that had have bother him and he started at the top of the pyramid, slowly destroying each brick until all that remained was the bottom.

Loki.

Tony absently clenched the palm that suffered from the spark of green the other night. At random times the muscles in his hand would spasm, and vibes like prickled ant toes shattered up and down each digit. He had JARVIS run several blood tests and discreetly convinced Banner to evaluate any possible side effects he might suffer from Antonio.

Each test came back negative. He was free of any sickness, any kind of abnormities and deduced them all inclusive; but Tony knew if he so much as blinked something would be off. Three times, the three times he'd come within two feet of Loki, Tony took note of a sexual change in his body. And no that wasn't a new rod he had ready to build in the Mark 1. In private of course, he could outright say that he was, perhaps, disturbingly turned on by the pale skinned, green eyed, want-to-murder-you type. And here Loki only had to breathe on him to get the desired results.

Which brought up another slew of questions.

How exactly did Loki know Tony was going through bodily changes?

Was he nearby, maybe spying on him from distance?

Could he be suffering from similar symptoms?

And Tony still wanted to know what the hell was up with the whole glowing thing when they touched. He remembered a handful of times of Loki touching him and never had that reaction occurred before.

Something was off and damn if it wasn't producing another headache. "Damn, I'm losing it." He grumbled half pissed at himself for letting minuscule doubts grab him so. If it were serious, he would've found something long ago.

He sucked in a deep brew of fresh air; clean enough to clear his mind and defrost any other kinds of thinking that involved Loki. Thinking of the son of a bitch should've made Tony's stomach churn but the opposite was happening. All the space in his shorts was on the verge of sporting a North Pole tent and God forbid if he has to work it down—

Tony lifted an eyebrow when a ginger buzz came from one of the intercoms stationed closest to him.

"_Sir, do pardon the late intrusion on your privacy, but there's been a breech in security. Readings are picking up an unusual level of unrecognized energy coming from within the fortress."_

Tony was grateful for his ability to adjust too all situations, no matter the spur of the moment times they'd come, "Someone's inside. Where are they?"

JARVIS seemed hesitate to respond and so lowered his audio to a reluctant whisper, "_In the master bedroom, exactly nine inches away from young Antonio. If at all possible, I would generate a way of confining the intruder, but any interference could cause the child harm."_

Loki. That bastard. It had to be him. "No, No don't do that." Tony didn't need to think, didn't have too. He'd been preparing for when the son of bitch would come back. "Set all protocols to level orange. Secure the open breech and generalize a systematic shield only within that vicinity," He ordered, walking hard and determined to the bedroom. "I don't want so much as a fly getting through the cracks, you clear JARVIS?"

"_Crystal sir. Systems are engaged through orange code emergency. Shield's strength has been charged to one hundred percent."_

"Be subtle," Tony warned. "I don't want him knowing we got him locked."

"_He's already aware sir, strangely he hasn't made any attempts to escape the barrier."_

Cocky bastard. Tony, first looked inside the bedroom, wearily cautious and alert for any potential green shots coming for his heart. The bedroom was bare. No sign of Loki anywhere in the room. He finished his eye patrol where Antonio's crib is cornered by the back wall. The canopy crib curtains were parted on both ends. Yes, Loki's been here.

Walking inside and not caring if the door clicked loud enough to chase Loki off, Tony marched in gaze sharp enough to slit razors, "Cowardice shouldn't suit you, Loki," He said low and ugly into nothingness. "Be man enough to come out, I know you're here." A chuckle came from behind. Tony spun on his heel and he could easily blame the sage florid illusions of lapping flames on just being sleepy. Loki appeared in the middle, right here, sitting on the edge of his bed like he belonged there and always has been.

"Comparing my masculinity to fear is a dare worth responding too. Though I must say, coming from you it sounds like a crude gesture."

Tony wondered where the sudden tiredness came from and wished it'd been there when he'd first woke up, "Don't get used to waltzing in here unannounced." Another thing he wondered was if Loki would mistake the drear in his voice for something other than fear.

Clearly he didn't since there wasn't any effort made to move from his bed. "Some song, same verse right? You come here, preaching about taking the kid and then I go on a rant that you'll die trying." Tony controlled the sizzling down pour of anger in his veins and excreted only mere boredom, face and voice containing the same, "Let's surprise everyone with a little difference, hm?" Of course Tony would have rather they had this confrontation during the day and not the dark night, but that couldn't be helped. He'd deal with this as best and patient as he can.

Loki raised an eyebrow showing every bit of his delicate charm in the gesture and a tilt of his lips the added brilliance, "There'll be no talk of retracting my vows. I did say that I held no animosity for the man who Zephyr cares for. Shall I grant you a cleaner promise then before for clarity? Very well, so be it." It was said all in a single breath, not giving Tony the chance to discard the offer of guarantee. "I do humbly swear that I have no claims of taking Zephyr from your care. If in any case, I feel his safety is jeopardized I will take heed of my own conscious and do what is best for the lad."

Tony stared. There was no right hand rose to God—which would be pointless for Loki— nothing sealing the promise with a blot of ink, no brand of sealed bonding or any written agreement to secure the deal. And possibly Tony would've almost believed the Liesmith capable of integrity until his eyes caught the shunning disguise behind green iris.

Right.

That would've been too easy after all. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Champ," Tony made a show of stretching his arms over his head, and lips spread in a loose grin. "Now if you would? Some humans require sleep but some Gods have an ass that needs to move."

Loki said nothing at first but watched him with eyes that crystallized into glaciers, green a minty frost, "You doubt me." He stated face resembling the scrape of an ice sculpture. "What have you to fear? I gave my consent; I only need yours in return."

Tony shook his sniff neck, never breaking the lock connection, "Old habits die hard. I say blue you say black, if I say yes, you'll screw me over. I've had enough of letting promises go without signing, unchecked for bullshit," He added wryly. "And I don't intend to make the same mistake twice."

"You speak as though you've been through a phrase of mistrust," Loki spoke, voice as light as a breeze.

Of all the things Loki could've worded in response to his declaration, Tony wasn't expecting anything like that. He slowed the expressive way his face nearly revealed it and waved his hand dismissively, "If you don't have any secret ploys for weapons of mass destruction or the next hot spot, feel free to leave when you get the chance." Obviously, the windows, the door, any of the exits were wide open.

But then Loki rose from the bed and began to pace around the front as agile and prideful as a lion biding his time for escape from his cage. He stopped and nodded, having come to some conclusion that didn't involve Tony's input and clasped his hands behind his back, chin high, "I know our past can speak clearer then my present promissory, but they are all I am able to give. What more will you have me do so that you know I come unarmed?"

"By getting the hell out," Tony snarled, his temper a brittle crumble. "If you want me to believe you, _leaving_ would be the best option."

"And what would that gain me in my benefit?"

Tony threw his hands up, "Naturally you ask what you need to do and forget to mention that's _a but_ in there." Tony paused and gave himself a mental coaching. His stride with dealing with Loki was bouncing off the walls. Patience, intelligence, matching control, all of those should've been a braided rope noosed twice and how could he maintain that with the bloody fool constantly frustrating him? He shook his head lightly, palming all over his hair back in a smooth swoop and in that move, he'd gained back some of himself. "Clearly we need to reestablish some ground rules between you and me."

Loki's arms twitched to fold in front of his chest, but he kept the un-dignifying motion suppressed, letting his face become cold and turbid. "Set whatever you deem necessary and I'll do my best to follow, _if_" he injected when Tony opened his mouth and clamped it shut. "And _only if_ they're within my range of obeying. I will not fully submit to a Midgardian's rules like some starved beast."

"Fine," Tony held his gaze for long moments, eyes liquid molasses. Shoulders brick hard in a tight hunch, Tony walked forward to Loki, stopping with a respectful space between them. The height difference didn't faze him a bit. "Stop warping in my bedroom, my house, in my tower, or anything else that smells of Tony Stark. Don't," Tony pressed onward much the same Loki had earlier, gratified to see the God force himself to be quiet. "Even think about visiting rights without my permission. I'll set the time and place appropriate for seeing the kid. No exceptions."

Loki barely restrained the eye roll, but being that only Tony Stark was his available audience, indulged himself with the childish display. "Those terms are within my doing," He snippily said like forcing the very agreement would shatter him. "Anymore demands you wish to share?"

Tony spent a few quick moments of victory, while to all others who would've been looking, tamely amused, "Yep, got a list from here to there ready for ya." He waited for the right time Loki narrowed his eyes before saying, "But that's another time, another place, and another _hour_."

"Of course," All of the previous frustration evaporated from Loki's face and dissolved in turn to remind Tony of a freshly polished blade, body straight and eyes glinting the winked spark of danger. "Now then, before we entered into this façade of peace, I did come for other purposes." He didn't explain them. Of course he wouldn't. Instead Loki gave him a steady pointed glance and walked around him to the back of the room.

To Antonio's crib.

Tony gave the loudest throat clearing in the universe. Loki didn't know or ignored it and kept going. Tony clenched his fingers tight like gripping along a tight rope, "Already breaking our agreement on the first night?"

"Oh do be quiet, Stark," Loki spat as gentle as claws on a block of ice. "Only a moment after hearing me say with my own mouth that I'll attend to your orders, and still you doubt me. Be grateful I don't go with my nature and bind your lips with poison."

The weight of authority over Tony's rage cracked like a nailed piercing in stone. To hell with control, to hell with wanting to keep his face free of emotion. Threats he could take with the best of them because they were always empty promises. With Loki, the twinge of familiarly to another situation slammed Tony hard grind his teeth to dust. Loki had a way of keeping the lies between his truths and falses like diamonds, completely transparent and real, no way of telling which was what. He didn't care to know what they were.

Tony was just going to get him, before he could get back, "JARVIS, upgrade the shields, pressurize energy gravity to Loki's signature. Memorize it, use it. I want his body flat as a disc."

There was a brief hesitation before JARVIS regretfully said, "_By configuring the gravitation to Loki's signature, the energy field would also duplicate young master Antonio, sir. Their compound radiations are the same. He would be in the same level of danger as Loki."_

Wait, what? The same? Tony's eyes reflected too much at once.

Tony didn't have the time to say anything before he was slammed like a jackhammer against the mattress, a vise clutching hold on his windpipe—something chilling rose from beneath the palm and cooled Tony's entire body with a blue iced sting. His gaze blurred, eyes fogging glossily as he gasped and immediately gripped the five digits around his neck, trying to wedge the tiniest space for air access. "The fuck!" Was all he could choke out. Tony matched Loki's eyes head on, the pupils so dilated not an ounce of green was visible.

Loki took a deep, slow breath. He'd acted on impulse, on the need to protect his brother. Once had he realized that Tony was above the people who ostracize Zephyr on Asgard, but when seeing the crossing ideals—the slightest hint of possible recognition, he responded in the only way he could to deter the theory.

Stark didn't need to know their connection.

It was best this way.

"I have no sort of quarrel with you Man of Iron, Tony Stark," Loki whispered, feathery calm, but his grip not so much. ". . . I thought this, a discussion, needn't being repeated, but your ears are as clogged as your judgment." He loosened a tad, displaying a will of sanity. "Protect him. It's all I ask of you. No matter what you may learn, what you may feel when you do, swear you will protect him."

Tony laid silent, gaze fastened on Loki. He shifted uneasily to get as far as mobility allowed. Like this, Tony could taste each breath Loki blew in his face, like the freshly coated dew of frost in the morning. And yet his body exerted the total opposite, a warmth curled into his side that his skin greedily absorbed and yearned to fold into it like a child missing his teddy bear. That is, it was only his body reacting that way. Tony was mentally sane enough to realize that he was being choked to death and not to enjoy it like some wayward sadist.

"Swear it," Loki fiercely hissed. "Swear your life to it."

Tony felt his face flare up and swatted hard against the hand on his neck, "I already planned on it. That includes protecting him from green eyed psychopaths."

Green swipe across his face, looking, searching for the smallest hint of trickery or mocked truth. Regardless of the insult, Loki took what he could and rose from the bed. Tony scowled at the ridiculously fluid poise it must've taken for Loki to stand like that, as if a reversed flow into a river. He rubbed the tender junction around his neck with both hands, eyes closed and then reopened to find Loki returning to the same place he tried to prevent him going.

Tony stood from the bed, and walked behind him—no beside Loki, looking through the gapping curtains of the canopy crib. "You got balls not to give a damn about retaliation. I'm this close to making JARVIS do the shield anyway."

"I doubt that."

"Oh do you?"

"Indeed. Unless unnecessarily provoked, why should I keep guard with the man who cares for my cohort with gentle touches and unspoken kindness? When in the presence of this boy, I can expect no violence," Loki lowered his voice. "As said before, you don't want harm to come to him." Loki smiled then, not a real warming one but one that dared Tony to try a move.

Nothing happened, except the flick of Loki's wrist and a jerk Tony thought was another attack. Only he felt a strange dislodging of pain disappear from his throat and frowned when he kept massaging to see if it would return. It was gone.

Tony sighed through his nose.

The guy attacks him, than heals him. What a twisted apology, if it could be called that. "You never try to pick him up when he's sleeping." Tony decided a safe subject to talk about—Antonio—would probably settle the negativity between them. "You scared of holding him?"

Loki snorted softly, "Don't be daft, it's nothing of the sort." Loki gave him a long side glance, lips thinned. "I've found an odd fascination with watching him in sated slumber. A far cry really from the rest he couldn't keep on Asgard." He remembered many a night of the retreating scowls, the undertone grunts of disgust and hundreds of disapproved eyes that all meant an equal disdain for Loki. Zephyr had never been able to sleep through the nightmares and terror of bitter hatred aimed on him during his short stay. But that's all changed now for the better. Loki looked at Tony with a different shine, "You've a natural magic about you that lures him in this state. I can't imagine why it would be so difficult for me to uphold, being that I am his closest ally and you being of no kin."

"Well," Tony shrugged; discreetly scratching the sheepish feeling behind his neck and incredulously wondered if he'd lost his mind. Hadn't this guy just tried to wring his neck off? Now they were have a civilized conversation like it happened on a daily. Bizarre indeed, but he'll play along. "What can I say? The kid knows how to pick 'em. I've got the charisma of a God and plenty of witnesses to prove it. Right JARVIS?"

"_Indeed sir. I believe half the city would be able to support your claim."_

"Easy JARVIS, I'd almost think you were calling me a playboy."

"_Your words sir, not mine."_

"Bastard," Tony chuckled. "Sometimes I wonder if you'd be better off a microwave."

Loki straightened his back, his expression narrowly thin and insisted on a languid whisper. "Really Stark, I think it goes much deeper than you think." When Tony did give him his serious attention, Loki went on. "I suspect it's the bond that links you to him. Zephyr, well, he's not as easily coaxed into trusting all that nears him. An infant he may be in your eyes, but the memory of years is stored in his mind. He remembers, he knows, he understands, and he feels your intentions are good for him. Perhaps it is why he chooses to dwell here with you instead of in the company of myself. "

Tony shook his head, "Bond, you keep talking about a bond like he's inflicting some kind of curse on me." He shook his head away, dragging every strand of hair through his fingers. "I'm close to him yeah, but it's got nothing to do with whatever the hell you're talking about. That's just the way things go when you're around them enough."

"In due time," Loki reached out to touch him, but let his hand hover for a while, than lowered it down on the ball of Tony's shoulder. A rage of ripples crawled up and down Tony's arm like spider legs beneath his skin. It was cool and mildly soothing—the same effects of being finally relieving one's body on a newly prepared bed. Strange, his body went surged a colder sensation. "You'll grow to understand it better, I think." Tony snapped his eyes back up from the hand to Loki's face; a slight smile, and eyes as aloof as a speck of floating dust.

Did Loki not feel that just now? Irritably, Tony snorted, ducking way from the caress, rolling his head from side to side, "Yeah sure, maybe. Look, it's getting late and all, so this time, you think you can disappear for a couple of hours?" Tony walked back to his bed, counting each step it took. He roughly snatched the comforter off and bundled underneath the sheets. He waited, he anticipated and then it came.

The undeniable, unnatural crackle of flames shattering the room's silence. But he knew he heard Loki's last words before he completely vanished, "I'll be returning for our agreement. Expect to see me soon."

Yeah.

He was looking forward to that.

Tony blinked slowly. He shifted and moved around on the bed for minutes that felt longer. It wasn't long after ten minutes he grew restless and got up for the garage. His mind was a web of confusion and he hated it. Loki was affecting him in more ways than one it seemed.

Tony noticed it when he touched his bare arm and none of the clammy sensation remained. A cold layer was all that stayed.

And yet it couldn't have felt warmer.

* * *

He knew it. The embodiement of his magic vibrated to tunes unheard, but only to a music that it could hear through Stark's body. Loki had thought it but went without contemplating his opinion with a finer study. His palm was on fire, like having just pulled it from the roar of an open roast. Tony Stark's skin, his temperature; It was unlike anything Loki could describe, the texture of worn velvet. His hand tingled with want, a clutching yearning to feel that flaring sensation once more and it greatly irritated him.

Interesting.

He'd have to look into this more.

Maybe see if what was contained in the Midgardian was what captivated his young brother so easily. It might stir the dust away on some of the mysteries Loki himself couldn't solve.

* * *

When he pushed open the door, the bell chimed brightly, and it made him smile. Already he felt a relief as cooling as the pour of iced spring water as the sway of the atmosphere overtook him. Something soothing, something jazzy with a twinge of rolling stir underground floated from the ceiling speakers and a drowning harmony swallowed him whole.

Tony can't remember the last time he'd been in this old café. It could've been years, probably decades and it still carried that old traditional sensuality that didn't change. That was something he'd needed lately, a hint of familiarity and calming uniqueness. The tranquil words coming from the music choice strolled slowly, softly countering off the customers and the joined company like beach balls. It made him smile again.

And the contagious gesture ricocheted off to the party waiting for him in the back corner who saw him and the tiny tike in his arm arrive. Steve waved them over, and Tony waved back or would've if there hadn't been a mindful disruption.

Damn these headaches. The timing couldn't have been more off.

Blue eyes reflective caught the winch and acted accordingly, "Tony, you really should get those checked out," Steve offered to take the baby as soon as they walked up. Tony brushed him off sliding in the other side of the booth, placing Antonio in the booster seat next to the next. "I'm serious," Steve continued when they all settled in. "When was the last time you had a decent rest?"

"Between riding here and sitting down. Come on Spangles, your promised you'd leave the mothering at home," Tony stacked his menu on the polished table top to get his point across. "Me and the brat came here for good company and good food. No nags."

"I'm only thinking about your wellbeing. Since you won't give Miss Potts the benefit at least humor me. Every time I see you, I can never tell the bruises from the sleep lines."

Tony had to actually think if he was insulted or not. He declared it an innocent clarity. "I'm fine Rodgers, seriously. If I start mixing up my stripes for stars, you have my permission to call the Infantry."

"Don't even joke like that."

In the colorful background, the soft strains of the audio tunes spun through the silence, a cultured woman's rich tenor singing, supported by the strings of one another, a deeply baritone man.

Steve looked him over a slight while, half tuned into the music and the rest of his attention dwelling on letting his concern sail through the windows. It was decided with a singular shrug of his shoulders and a lowering glance down at the squirming baby by the table, "How you've been little guy?"

Antonio blinked and shrieked loud, all pink gums and smiles. He bumped and hopped about in his booster chair like feathers were poured in his diaper and he couldn't sit still from the tickling. "Mm!" he squealed.

"Spunky one aren't you?" Steve curled his finger over both rosy blushed cheeks, gratified with a giggle and more pink joy.

"Keep it up Cap. You make the future look like a devil out for the innocent," Tony's grin was hidden just at the rim of his menu folder.

"Ha, Ha, Ha, you can't use that against me this time," There was a bucket of trimpuant in Steve's voice. "I heard a couple say it in the marketplace yesterday."

Tony flapped the folder to the side, "The elderly don't count." And he claimed another win when Steve's cheekbones shined a deep coral.

Antonio smacked his hands on the table top and gurgled, spittle's of drool glossing his lips.

Tony nodded, "See? Even the brat agrees." Reaching around his back, Tony came back with a yellow and green patterned pacifier and plucked it in the baby's mouth. "Here Squint, chew on that a while."

Steve exchanged a sturdy and careful look between the older man and the baby before sitting back, lips parted brilliantly. He hadn't realized it before but now, now it was sorely obvious and absolutely precious. "Well I'll be darn."

"What," Tony shifted the book to the side again. "You say something?"

No, he wouldn't offer his observation just yet, but Steve was amused pink at the small details he'd noticed of his fellow Avenger in the last three months he'd kept Antonio. No matter where Tony seemed to go, he'd unknowingly bring Antonio along dressed in similar if not the exact same attire. Tony came casually clothed in some acid washed blue jeans, a while long sleeved thermal and a thickly padded leather jacket to keep out the cold. Antonio, just like his—well his guardian—had on some baby blue jeans a stalk white turtle neck and a plush baby biker's jacket that could so easily have been cut out of Tony's. In the three months the baby's hair has flushed out a dark chocolate brown; and Tony made sure to keep the style curly and swipe off Nio's face.

"Have you ever wondered . . .?" The next moment made him bite off his secret. The two Tony's had their heads cocked to the side, eyes so intently focused on Steve he choked back his laugh. Like double mint twins. If only his friend knew. No, Steve would keep this to himself. "Nothing, forget it."

Tony's signature eyebrow rose over his sunglasses, but he didn't think much of it.

"Mmm."

He looked down. Antonio's cheeks swelled plump, "What's up?"

Antonio buckled in his seat, smacking his bubble hands flat on the support beam. "Mm."

"Hungry huh? Greedy bastard. You had a whole bottle and two jars of smashed peas this morning."

Steve winched, right eye squint like getting antsy for a needle to be injected in his arm, "Do you think cursing at a baby's healthy? They're impressible at this age."

"What?" Tony blinked. "He isn't registering any of it. I don't see the harm. Ain't that right you little jackass?" Tony ignored Steve's disapproval glare and explained. "You don't know what the jerk put me through last night. I couldn't get an ounce of work done because all he wanted to do was play and suck a bottle."

"Sure," Steve unfolded his menu options, barely reading over the listed lunch specials. His eyes were trained on Tony's conditions and when he noticed a difference, immediately pounced. "Your headache's gone?"

Tony frowned back at him for having seen the difference before he had. Yeah, it was gone. As a matter of fact as soon as he walked through the doors and sat down the headache vanished. "It is," He smiled. "I guess I have your ray of sunshine to blame." He wasn't all that hungry really. Tony just wanted an excuse to get out of there, to clear his head and think properly. "What're you having Spangles?"

"Umm, hard to say," Steve murmured, sliding his index over the delicious selections. "Everything sounds so tasty."

On second thought, after scanning the menu Tony did feel a little hungry. He didn't need to study the menu like his partner. He knew very well what he wanted, so instead he looked up and around the crowded café, sight-seeing every potential looker in the joint. When he turned around to the front of the café, Tony found the shy gaze of a tall, slightly built, dark haired teen standing with a tray of drinks in his hand. The kid couldn't have been more than eighteen with a pair of killer green eyes that gleamed like gemstones against his baby doll pale face. The uniform, a short sleeved, navy blue polo and khaki pants were worn loosely around his frame, doing little to give Tony an estimate on body type.

Tony grinned.

Lowering the sunglasses over his eyes, along with making sure the Cap was busy, Tony sensually licked his lips and shot a heated wink to the kid. The kid rocketed a fire engine red from his chest to his ears, expression stunned like a jolt from a fork in a plug. A slender and mightily proportioned young woman sassed by then, taking with her, a pair of breasts for years and hips and mile long legs to make a Preacher pause for a look. Still, in the end after she'd left he was drawn back to looking into those green eyes. As addictive as a new kind of shot, those eyes were meant to be stared at. Pretty little things too.

"I'm thinking the five stars special. You the manager will mind if I ask for extra bacon?" No answer. Steve blinked, leaning his menu to the side, finding Tony pleasantly distracted and looked over to see him in a heated stare with a child. "Dear God Tony, have some mercy. The poor fella can't be more than ten."

"And looking every bit of twenty five," Tony smoothly countered, never breaking eye contact.

Steve rolled his eyes as he leaned across the table and tickled Antonio under his chin, "Try your best not to grow up like your Dad kiddo. He's a hopeless case."

Say what? Did he hear that right? That grabbed Tony's attention faster than a pair of baby oil thighs. "And what's that's supposed to mean?"

"Just as I said," Steve smiled.

Tony frowned and had a good lesson refreshed in his mind to scar the good soldier's brain for life until a gentle brush on his shoulder sucked every word back. "Excuse me."

Tony paused and looked up, instantly conjuring his handsome charm. Not a single tooth was spared his smile. "Oh. Couldn't keep away could you?"

"No sir, not when egged on so perversely," The waiter admitted in a timid and bold declaration. Tony detected an accent and boy if those didn't set his loins a fire. "And I came to ask if you were ready to order."

"Hm," Tony eased his chin on the back of his knuckles, smile so dazzling it could reflect off the drink glasses. "I'll have whatever makes your eyes so sweet, Pretty Boy."

The waiter was baffled. Tony thought it was the most precious thing until a swift kick to the shin shattered his thoughts.

Steve sat back, satisfied. "We'll both have the all-star special, extra bacon for me and—"

Steve was cut off with a wickedly excited squeal from his right. Antonio caught sight of their waiter and went wild, chubby arms wavering in the air and button lips babbling nothing but thrill.

"Ha," Tony was proud. "See, and you were worried the brat wouldn't be influenced. He's got my good tastes. He knows good quality when he sees it." Tony laughed short, and battered back and forth with the captain for a moment, not at all aware of the intense study trained on him.

. . . . . .

There was a smile, a visible flash and a flicker of a finger.

. . . . . .

Tony stopped laughing instantly. He knew what he felt just then and turned around to search. It was so weird, but he knew what it was. Loki was near, somewhere close. It was the same feeling he had the night they met in that café down town. He'd know that signature anywhere, even without a detector.

"Mmm!"

"Yeah Sport, I hear you." Tony brushed it off for now until he was positive of another contact. He'd use that to lead him to the bastard to see what the hell he was up too.

. . . . . .

In the meantime, the waiter looked down at his palm and grimly closed his eyes, then opened out to the window.

_So peculiar, his reaction. He felt that. That small twitter, and he could feel it. _

Loki inwardly sighed and closed each finger into his palm. Something was going on against his better consciousness. He was going to need to find out soon and quickly. He didn't like being unable to control things.

Whatever was going on here, this would not be one of them.

* * *

**Stay tuned.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Rant: **Mpreg will come. Be patient. This is a slow development romance. If you want fast pace, read elsewhere. Enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

* * *

The room was enormous, made of dark gray marmoreal, but softly accented and caressed by cream sparkles that lit above as high as any indoor universe, along the walls and ceiling. Nearby, the carpets shun a deeper rue color like the warming spread of wine soaked to the core of the ground. Paintings of landscapes, tapestries, mythical creatures of the likes, covered the open spaces of the walls, curving and molding to them that could only be manipulated by magic to stay. Flickering candles sprinkled their glow along the breeze of ivory, satins and royal blues.

It should've been his last chosen place to go, but what other options were really open out there? At the very least, not with this much knowledge on what's been ailing him these past nightmarish days.

The Asgardian achieves swallowed him alive, the shelves and bookcases dark as oil and high as glacier coves.

Loki's chest heaved and folded in as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. Hours, perhaps longer no telling, have bypassed him in a blur. Pains rooted themselves in the crevice of his shoulders, the middle of his back and trained roughly into the back of his neck. His mind was a turbid field of mayhem that would take him long whiles to tame. He'd been at this so long, nourishment was a distant memory; from the way he licked around the grooves of his teeth, the swelled of his dry sticky tongue confirmed it's been a long while.

He had no time for sleep, not a moment to waste on doing much of anything not even massage the agony roaring like a thousand splinters in his muscles. He needed all layers of concentration he had to scour through the spread of strolls, the gapping levels of books and he was reluctant to take his eyes off of any of them in case he came upon the definition he needed.

Magic, there were three main sources and specific types of magic and who so ever wanted to possess them had to sacrifice one of the main components in order to claim it: Body, Mind and Heart.

His was of the Mind. Only to some degree did he relinquish control of his mentally to the magical forces and even then he'd managed to master the terms of it with little practice.

Loki shifted uncomfortably in his chair, gazing at the chapters displaying counts of his own magic and specifying details he knew might explain a few things. Bodily flexes, momentary lapses of mis-control, a drawling effort to keep his magic dormant, the occasions of it buzzing in his ears like a horde of insects and the portions of his body that did unspeakable transfigurations. Once or twice he'd permitted his magic a moment to speak to him, let it explain itself so as to give him a peace of mind.

However that proved a moot attempt when all that came back were whimpers and disgruntled snarls, mostly incoherent. Loki could distinguish two or three phrases from the magical entity: _Mine_, _Want,_ _Pleasure_, and a select few words that the beast had no business knowing.

Loki sat back in his chair and looked up to the ceiling, leaning back until the chair supported itself on two limbs; a habit he'd discarded early but couldn't hold back the desire to as a means of controlled unpredictability. He'd learned some small things here and there in the contents of two older books, a fairly new parchment and the writings of a newer author that explained similar scenarios of which he'd witnessed others doing through.

_Once a sorcerer or sorceress develops a firm mastery of their magical core, they are given a limited selection of three source powers to nurse from: Mind, Body and Heart. For each individual power comes both strengths and weaknesses that the provider must be willing to possess and sacrifice in willing the magic to its full potential. _

Loki had well enough known the consequences and repercussions to come from owning the mind core of magic. It was distinctly why he'd chosen that route because of the way it suited him.

_For those who desire the mind as their source of strength, a specific weakness is present almost at once before the wielder has a chance to counter the effects. They, that is the magical entity that chooses to serve their master, chose for their owner's mentality as well as spiritual components to manifest their deepest wants and needs before the owner has a consciousness to be aware. Many are not often suppressed to the beast so quickly and only see the effects of self-desires._

_A prime example ,in cases of protection, the will to survive comes forth through the fastest routes of escape. The beast allows the hands, the feet, the eyes and inanimate objects used to circulate the flow. The owners enact these demands because of the implanted second nature that comes with it._

Loki knew that as well.

_However, due to the positives and negatives that come with the mind core, in history there were only a small store of spell casters that wanted its massive abilities because of the level of riotous that comes with its destructive powers and calmer, subtle ways of attack. In the quest for seeking this, there was one such sorcerer named Igor Cracklinson that conjured the longest will of the mind core than any other thus far and has also been the one to carry on through the goods and bads of holding the mind's management._

That was over a few eras back, far beyond Loki's time and birth.

_Igor would suffer magical droughts because the generous portion of his magic he allowed to live and breathe within his body. By combining his spirit for the mind core, the magical beast, to nest in, it gave him a greater understanding of how and what he could do to keep the harmonic and peaceful companionship between them. The droughts were caused by the magic's gradual learning experiences to gain a mind of its own and request for things that were always in its master's ways of getting. When the master would serve his creature what it duly desires, then the magic would calmly recluse itself in the dwells of the mind and not so much as breath another word until wanting something else. Then and only then would Igor get the power he so craved. _

In other words, no better than a spoiled child demanding the share of another's toy, Loki grimly theorized.

_In Igor's case, the demands were basic, trivial and quite simple to gain. Some were small items such as jewels, foods, clothing and the likes. With each given gift, the magical creature would purr and relinquish a very generous amount of power to its master and strengthen their companionship for more. Igor had eventually gone mad with the thrill of getting more power and never thought about his actions before they were performed. It was why in his fifteenth century he committed the act of murder by slaughtering his wife and three children, for the beast's pleasures. By doing so he'd been given an eternality of power. But the cost was too great and in the end he'd succumb to his sorrows and beheaded himself near the Asgardian River Bank. _

Loki knew his case was so much different from Igor's. Yes, he'd taken to giving his magic some level of its own self-reasoning, a way of consciously being aware of independence, but not so much to where it could demand his master's attentions. Loki knew the risks were too grand and often scolded himself for wanting to take the chances that far, regardless of what strength he'd gain.

So he'd went about it another way; by the slowest crinkles, giving a piece of his mind to the magical core per year instead of the recommend day by day and by doing so could manage to keep the beast locked away for a period to remember who it belonged without becoming overwhelmingly defiant.

Of course, that too seemed a redundant decision now judging from the way the bloody core began to manifest on its own.

On cue, a sparkle hummed in his fingertips, brilliantly green and staggering like a drunken sage. Loki lifted his right hand glaring at the fluttering buzz and clammed it down into a fierce fist. "Damn," he cursed, lips curled on the edge. It seemed he'd been too quick to judge his own interpretations of small amounts.

"Loki."

Loki started and rose from his seat, eyes narrowly suspicious. His wards were invaded. It was many a rare day when his Queen could enter any domain without him hearing. Not so much as a rustle of her gowns graced across the floors; a truly gifted woman in the magical knowledge.

She looked from him, than to the scores of unraveled scrolls, levitating parchments, and streams of ribbon marked books on tables and chairs. The woman that once was his world, the shimmering jewel amongst the rubble, his entire galaxy, stood there as she would whenever she'd caught him studying in the library as a mere lad; prideful and a mask that concealed the sunniest smile she wanted to give him. She was clad in richly woven silvers and golds that softened her expression further like a diamond nestled on swan feathers. Loki would've given much of his heart to remember a time when he wouldn't have to be weary of this woman.

But things have changed. "Queen," He bent his arm to his chest and bowed respectfully. "I regret to say that the son you seek is not here. Thor is still on holiday."

Queen Frigga, instead of regarding him with a face to rival the coldest winter, as he anticipated she would, gave him a patient smile and cupped her hands in front of her robes. "You are wrong my boy. I knew who I was looking for when I came here."

Loki stayed bowed a moment longer to stuff his swallowed surprise somewhere out of reach.

"My _son _is indeed here, why he should _continue to _think himself otherwise is beyond me." Her whisper was lighter than a breeze.

A delicate snort came as Loki rose and prevented a swirl of emotion to appear on his face when he found his queen reaching out to him with unfolded hands, a pleading smile on her face. Loki paused replenishing the mask of blank chill on his face, though he was feeling not an ounce of it. He grabbled his fingers, wishing to envelope her small hands in his larger ones, but kept the desire hidden by his sides.

She solemner, seeing no response to her offer and elegantly retracted them back to her front. The brilliance in her eyes dimmed. "Will my youngest always be loss to me? Am I to never have him back?"

"I am not the child you want me to be. That boy has died ages ago. What you see before you is all that will, and thereafter, remain," Loki coldly conveyed. "Don't search for imaginary people my Queen. It doesn't become you."

"I do not yearn for memories, Loki. I know very well the son I adored, and still do, is quite real."

"Only in memory, nothing more," Loki firmly tried to convey but the crack in his throat was as clear as a visibly broken vase.

"No," She flicked her towards the shelves and summoned a hand sized mirror to her hands. She kissed the glass and turned it forward. The image of a young boy, dark haired, young and wildly robust shun, entangled in a playful rut with another child, golden in every way. _Thor and himself_ _when they were young lads playing in the gardens; it must've been their shared tenth summer_. Then a glorious woman arrived in the scene to call them forward. The youngest wanting her attention more, hurried until he was lost inside her terrain of satins and warmth. The mother kneeled to his face and planted the sweetest kiss on his cheek.

Loki tore his gaze away, no longer concealing what she plainly viewed in his chest.

"You may see yourself as dead my dear Loki," She softly said waving away the mirror. "But my son is not gone, but lost. I only want to find him again, to bring him home."

Loki swallowed again, a bit stronger. "And, now that you've found your loss son, what will you do with him? Shall I be thrown into a cell? Will that suffice your satisfaction for containment, Frigga?"

"How coldly you say my name," Said the Queen. Loki studied the broken tenor in her voice. Had he addressing her by that name bothered her so much? "Would it be so difficult to call me Mother as you once did?"

Loki stiffened, "Immensely so, knowing that you are not."

"But I am Loki. I am your mother. I would not have carried you in my arms, bathe you clean of dirt, nestled you to my breast when you wept or feed you when you were hungry. All things a mother would do."

"All the same things a maid would do," Loki countered with a rough edge. "That does not make any of them my mother does it?"

"It does not," She dared to step into the chambers, honey filled eyes sweetened only for Loki. The expression was so pure he staggered back from her when she came within reach. "Maids do it out of duty. I did it out of love for my son. I may not have borne you as a natural mother would, but you are no less my son then Thor. I would give my life as fast for you as I would him. Nothing has changed."

"Stop it," Loki closed his eyes and took deep breathes. A slow burn coiled like a winding rope in his body and the ache of release would ripple if he boldly looked into her eyes. He didn't want to see pity, or sorrow, or possible regret . . . or disgust. He could bare it if he looked in the eyes of Odin or Thor. With Frigg, it'd crush him. She would make this so much easier if she just acknowledged what he was instead of ignoring it all together. "You wish to see past the monster, not the man because all you want to remember is what I am not. Take what you will of me my Queen, but my identity you cannot alter."

"Oh Loki."

Loki refused to speculate on her tone. She'd it used on him before. It was why he was quick to lower his eyes to the floor as a physical impulse. It still had the same effect as a young lad calmly, patiently scolded for having done wrong and it was one he'd never recover from; not from this beautifully aged woman. He winched when she brought her cool palms to either side of his face and tilted his face back to stare into her eyes. Her allure was magnificent, so incredibly clean and innocent. She gazed at him as one would a precious emerald on a tiara.

Loki longed to believe that look was true for him.

"I care not for what you think you are, or what you want to be, so that you can distant yourself from us." Two impeccably smooth thumbs caressed the angular slope of his cheeks, the dip of his jaw and the pit of his eyes, like a blind peasant having found the smallest crumb of food. "You are our son Loki. _Our son._ I want you no different than from the day I first held you."

Loki paused, all words dying immediately on his tongue when he saw the gloss of wetness in her dark eyes. There was pain, almost a dread of useless desperation. He wanted to reach out to her, to fold her in his arms and whisper the one word she wanted so badly to hear after a desolate time without it. But it clogged in his throat, lying buried like a cowardly rodent.

She searched around his eyes, brushing through frost that lied there and pulled him down. Loki closed the windows away. Frigg lowered his face to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The caress tapped only air as she gripped at nothing but a warm dissolve that was the only proof that Loki had been in her reach. He'd vanished, a quiet whimper in his wake.

Frigg stepped away and brought one sleeve to her eye to dry away the tear that fell before he could see it.

She turned and left the library chamber, closing her eyes in prayer. By the Great Nine Realms, she wanted all of this bitterness to end; all of the pain and agony to vanish. What lied ahead for her son, she only wanted to protect him from.

It will be a very long road.

* * *

Tony had seen Loki once in the middle of the night. He'd come and stayed only to see Antonio and ask of the appropriate time to meet him. When Tony gave him the designated place, Loki left without a word.

And Tony had trouble sleeping that night. It seemed to have grown hotter than it already was when Loki left.

* * *

Looking up toward the sunshine burrowing through the clouds, Tony had to shake his head. A day as beautiful as this and he had to pick it as the one when he'd give Loki time to spend with the brat. The only high light of this deal was the setting being in Central Park and him being able to seclude a small portion of the place to himself without the harassment. A full hour was all he needed and all he'd granted Loki.

He still didn't trust the bastard, and shit if he was in his right mind, Tony would be assembling the Avengers to lock him up in case he turned ape. But call him a pup for sorrow. Despite all the horse trash and back and forth drama him and Loki went through, Tony couldn't bring himself to do the guy in. It was sort of like the feeling of punishing a criminal for an old crime years later, but the effects of anger have long cease stopped.

In Loki's case, the wound was still unscabbed and mending very, very slowly. Tony would probably never trust him and he was fine with that.

"Eeeek!"

Tony scrunched his eyebrows tight and looked down by his ankles. "What's going on with you?" Antonio was rocking and squealing like a baby chick grabbing for a worm. The plush glow worm and scattered teddy blocks were completely forgotten in turn for the approaching person coming from afar. Tony turned around and sucked in hard. His chest concaved and he really wished he'd known better the other night.

"You son of a bitch," Tony leaned against the park bench, one hand over his eyes as he studied the familiar handsome lines of a young man he'd flirted with in the café with Steve, though he couldn't understand why he hadn't noticed the similarities in the first place. Damn, long dark hair, pale skin and good God he'd called Loki a pretty boy. Tony tried, he really did try, to appear as impeccably unaffected by the revelation but the closer Loki came, the harder it was for the mask of disguise to keep on Tony's face. "You damn son of a bitch," He repeated a pinch louder for Loki's ears alone when the attendant stopped before him. "Humiliation was on your agenda today wasn't it?"

The waiter—_Loki _dammit—innocently shifted his weight from one penny loafer to the other, a tilt of his head portraying the exterior of a innocuously confused teen but his eyes shadowed every drop of misconduct he could like a dripping faucet. "Secrets do tend to have a nasty bite when revealed out of thin air." Came the accented response that _again_, Tony shouldn't caught onto in the beginning. Loki swept his hand as any gentleman would offer a seat for a lady to join him.

Tony clucked his cheeks and bunched his lips to one side.

Loki recognized defiance when he saw one. Tony was a stubborn man through and through and wouldn't so much as yield to even the slightest submissive gesture. Loki thought it amusing and stayed his place as well, only retracting his arm back and meeting Tony's eyes with equal challenge. He was certain that he'd judged the flicking twitches on the sides of Tony Stark's eyes to be irritation and a flare of annoyance after remembering that Loki would just as stand there all day as Tony would. Loki stared on and a flawless glint pulled his lips to the side like a faint web in glass, a soft and chilling smile.

"You are indeed a bold one Tony Stark," He reflected more to himself, then the stubborn sod and calmly pushed back any prideful motives to stay rooted to the pavement like a pigeon perch and sat down first. "You refuse to yield to anyone."

"I don't yield out of principle. What you tried to do was flat out insulting," Tony shoved his hands in pockets and shrugged. "Let this be a lesson learned. Tony Stark bows to no man or _God._"

"That remains to be seen."

Antonio reeled in a roaring squeal that shattered the tension like a buck shot and smacked his drooling gums to grab Loki's attention down to him on the grass. Every humming glory came into play as the baby rolled forward and crawled with earnest until he plopped his chubby weight on top of Loki's shoes and smiled a toothy gurgle.

Loki broke his stare trance with Tony in exchange for granting his young brother the attention he badly craved and reached down to collect the sinfully soft skin—_free of the Frost Giant skin completely_, he felt, which made it easier to touch him without revealing to much—and gave a light squeeze, "Hello to you as well lad," He said quietly. "You're as vocal as ever these days."

Antonio squealed even louder to emphasize the claim, it rolling and bubbling in Loki's ears like sweet music. _Ever the happy bundle, this boy, or rather very happy being here in the presence of this man_, Loki thought fondly and immediately disturbed afterwards. He ran the palm of his hand over Antonio's face a moment longer, drifted the back of his knuckles over his jaw and forehead too until drawing back and lifting his head to meet. . .

A look from Tony Stark he never imagined the man was capable of having for _Loki's_ company.

And Tony didn't care that he'd caught him staring as he'd been. He couldn't help it and didn't care to try too. It was a thought that transpired through him the handful of times he'd seen Loki in the same vicinity as Antonio and the way the entire stream of air around him would shift. Emotions, Loki probably didn't know, came to life in his eyes in a way that Tony thought made the color more vivid. When he was near or chanced a moment to touch Antonio, a strong tread would manifest in an almost viewable line. It was strong. It was genuine. It was perhaps the only time Loki gave himself to someone he trusted.

And it was a wonder that a person Loki could trust didn't even know how to count or favored his toes over milk.

"Share your thoughts or do away with them," Loki's snippy tone reminded Tony of an artist impatiently wishing his muse would hold still or get the hell out. Tony finally came too and found the vivid green sunk back into the shadows, locked tight.

Tony slowly began to smile, as if the pale, cold look were a thing of the past and nothing to flinch over, "A man never shares his inner thoughts, no matter how much others want to hear."

Loki just looked at him, "Your thoughts would scar small children."

"And old ladies. Gods too if I tried hard enough," Tony's voice rose and held as he finally took his head by Loki, casually draping his arm along the bench. He reached up to touch his temple, on cue, and found no signs of a headache_. Again_ _without the help of aspirin_, he pondered in thought. Tony was damn near close to taking Steve's advice and checking into a clinic for an evaluation. Better yet, letting Banner run a more thorough scan to be sure.

"You tend to do that often, I notice."

Tony blinked, and looked around. Oh yeah. "Say what?"

Loki sighed, bided to having to repeat himself, "Touching your crown. You've done it many a time before."

"Just headaches," Tony murmured. "I get 'em a lot."

He pressed his lips thin as paper and pressed onward a distinctive difference in his tone to keep the interest at bay, "How frequent are they?"

Tony shrugged, sliding his arm away from where he found lazily and dangerously close to cupping Loki's shoulder. "What's it to you? Probably once or twice a day, but who doesn't?"

"Hm," Loki made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat like a cat guessing the best way to pounce a blade of grass. He settled back against the bench, crossing one long leg over the other in a languid fashion, so poise and controlled. "I wonder. . ."

"You wonder what?" Tony countered on beat, letting his profile be Loki's only view.

Loki bit back anything close to argumentative, strictly, _strictly _because of the young boy by his feet that would suffer possible burns and said in a glassy tone, "May I try something?"

"Like?"

"Just humor me a moment," Loki clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder, making him start out of his cool shield to Loki's glee, and slid himself closer, the hand acting as his support beam. Ordinarily, Tony would've turned around and gave Loki a generously insulting reason to keep his hands to himself, but the fact was–and call it a childish curiosity—he wanted to know what the man was up too.

And what better way to do that then to play the lab rat? "Alright, do your worse." Tony said with a ridiculous smile. "Fair warning, I tend to bite the hand that feeds."

Loki narrowed his eyes. He could kick his own behind for having made a vow to keep from harming this fool in anyway, but the line drawn was already thin between them and settled with casting a soul- bending glare that was as close to _shut up_ as Stark would get_. I should strike his hair a flame, _another thought quickly dissolved, even though he knew Tony deserved it.

Given the silence, Loki knew he was given full compliance and leaned in further, matching Tony from arm, shoulder and thigh.

Tony flinched when the swish of tart warmth flew by his chin. "Isn't this a little close?"

"Shut up, will you?" Loki stared hard into his eyes when he said that. "Lean me your eyes not your mouth." His hand drifted off and over where Tony's jacket peeled off his shirt and Loki slinked in his index finger, only letting that small piece to touch the skin there. "Keep still," he chastised when Tony visibly squirmed.

Loki concentrated a minor flow of his magic into Tony's body and waited.

Tony felt it and the pulse of electricity coursing through. At least, that was it felt like in the background blur of his mind and the scores of nerves in that tiny press seemed to gravitate to that long finger and crowd it, begging, longing for the feeling it produced. Tony wanted to close his eyes and focus solely on that particular spot, but rational thinking as well being unable to break Loki's icy green gaze, held him stiff. His entire body went through a metaphorical change, selecting from rapidly hot to extremely cold, slightly aroused and loosely sated. But above all else, it kept Tony in a hazy vortex.

He was pushing into the finger. Loki eyes grew heavy. He heard his magic's chime like the plucked strings of a harp. He gave it a voice and vision to speak. It purred and brushed against Loki's mind, clawing to be free.

'_Mine. Mine. Mine.'_

Loki grimace, but concealed it through a smile, '_Ah, I see. So he is what has you so restless.'_

'_Yessss,' _the entity was shamelessly releasing every perverse image it could of the Tony to persuade Loki into getting the man for it. '_He is the one I want.'_

Loki gradually transfixed a study of what Tony Stark was in front of him. Tall, medium frame, intelligence beyond an average human, attractive in more ways than physical and very much amusing when he wasn't so fixed on being in charge. Yes, Loki could see his magical core's strange fascination with this man, but Loki himself? It could take time.

Loki blinked. Take time? Why would he even consider it? Tony was far past being a pawn for any of Loki's plans . . . but then again. This could be useful.

Loki's finger dragged absently over the coil of muscle flexing against his finger. Tony didn't so much as blink or shift. He was gone further than Loki imagined. '_What will you give me in return for him?'_ He asked the passionate beast.

With hearing Loki taking the chance into consideration, the entity fluttered and pranced, sighing dreamily_, 'The world and power and endless control. Anything my master desires, if he so chooses. But in exchange my dear master, I want him now.' _The beast graced the outer rims of Loki's thoughts like a flirting feline, nudging his leg for a stroke_. 'I want my way with him.'_

Endless control was the latter point Loki needed to assure. An easier step to gaining vast ability and added power that could easily rival Odin when the time came for the Allfather to cast a search for him. No doubt, the king was awaiting the opportune moment to come after Loki but he was waiting to see if Loki would submit to his request.

The dear king of Asgard would be waiting many a day before Loki even looked at his young brother with the tiniest contempt.

Plans began unraveling in his mind, so fast it frightened him. Yes, yes, this could work.

'_By the Nine, he smells divine,' _The beast airily hummed_. 'And so delicious. Let me taste him Master.' _

Loki chuckled, snapping Tony from the pleasurable daze and whispered back to the beast_, 'In due time. Let me lure him into my web before you have your way with him.' _

The beast snarled and paced and forth before retreating to the back of Loki's mind, in time to Loki removing his finger. A soft whine came from the beast and it sunk down depressed. Loki settled back away, giving Tony the room he'd need to come too.

Which took a decent half minute; Tony's gaze came back focusing and blurring tiny dots in his eyes. He pressed a palm to his chest, right over his Arc Reactor as if thinking someone had tried to rip it out. Then he looked at Loki, and frowned. It was hot, his skin felt sweaty like he'd just sprint a two mile run. "The hell?" He grumbled, gently rattling his brain. "What'd you do?"

Loki leaned away, coolly smirking, "Why, only relieved you of your headaches of course."

Tony touched his temple, "Couldn't you have done that without all the effects?" He thinly stared at Loki's smile and asked with more force, straightening up at once, "What did you do?"

Loki's shone a different shade of darkness that wasn't there before. Tony didn't budge even when the trickster leaned forwards, as if he might know a dark secret. Knowing Loki, he probably did. "I relieved you of your pain. Common courtesy normally calls for a simple thank you," Loki glance him over. "Instead of accusations without evidence."

"I'd _thank you_ to keep your magic out of my body," He licked his lips, surging to his feet. Being this close to Loki made him feel strange. He needed breathing room and time to get rid of the nasty problem down stairs before his jeans ripped.

"Leaving so soon?"

Tony curled his lip, "I'm taking the kid out of town in a couple of weeks. I'll let you know the time and place when you can stop by."

Loki felt the immediate thrill climb his spine. Seducing a man was a different game, a different style of craft and skill. "I look forward to your message." He said without letting his mask slip. "As well as spending time in you and Zephyr's company."

Tony reached in his pocket for his cell, he looked at Loki the entire time, and talked to Happy over the phone about being ready to leave. "Don't get excited," he said when the call ended. "I still don't trust you as far as I can throw you. If anything, after the stunt you just pulled I might come armed with enough gear to pack your ass. Ain't no telling what who-do you put in my blood stream."

"I can assure you nothing of the sort was done to harm you."

"Huh-uh," Tony would be checking that for himself thank you very much. But first things first, he seriously needed to think of a good pair of legs to wrap around his waist when he got home. He was dangling heavier then a horse. Was Marcus avalible for a quickie he wondered? Or Michielle or Devon? Jennifer maybe? "How will I contact you?"

Loki's gaze gleamed, "Just call for me. I'll come to you whenever you wish."

Tony stopped, thought and dismissed it all at once as he grunted bending over to collect Antonio's toys in a small pile to the side.

Loki, in the meantime, had a gracious moment of admiring Tony's ass through a new set of eyes. The blue garb he wore over his legs did wonders in presenting its shape. His nostrils flare as if whiffing the scent of a dessert for the first time.

His beast's entity reared up like a rope snapped its head upward and it flew into sinfully blissful frenzy.

All of that just from looking at Tony's behind.

'_Ohhh Master, he taunts me. It's not fair, please let me feel it.'_

'_Be patient,'_ Loki scolded calmly and the beast ventured back but stayed in place to witness its spoils so close and yet so far. '_You'll get what you want.'_

Loki watched Tony and his young brother leave from his side and hop into a jet black Phantom.

And he'd get what he wanted too. For now, he'd need to work on a way to seduce Tony Stark.

Loki was sure he'd have a pleasurable time doing that.

Taming this stubborn personality would indeed be fun.

* * *

**TBC: Yeah this is story's going to be longer than I planned lol. Yay Review? ^_^**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Rant: **Enjoy. I apologize for any mistakes. A little sick.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

* * *

A lot has died down lately. There hasn't been too much villain activity cascading the city like a polluted storm. Tony, in secret, was glad for the tamed peace. He could use the silence to gather his thoughts, to consider his life better and more importantly pay more attention to his health. Those damned headaches were wearing him thin as paper and more flimsy in the brain power.

Why, just yesterday he'd been tweaking up a simple equation function on DUM-E's new upgrade and botched it up royally. The blue prints ended up being accidentally switched for the data prints needed to insert in JARVIS and it only got worse when he spilled coffee on a three month's supply of contracts needed the following week. They were consecutive now. Every day, no matter how much medication he took, they arrived at the same times in heavy throbs around his temple like the crash of an anvil.

He found them to be less painful when Antonio was near.

Antonio, his little devil in Pampers.

It was nearly a full thirteen months since he found the blue skinned alien and truth be told, not a day has gone by without the squirt by his side. It was an almost demanded impulse. Wherever Tony went little Antonio was required to be there. The presence he gave seemed like a small antidote to Tony's migraines but only for so long.

He was fortunate they were beating his brain to mush so he could work downstairs. He was expecting company in another hour or so, in the meantime he could brainstorm and figure up a new shield that kept out unwanted parties.

Tony patted around his work desk for a socket wrench and came up grazing five tubby toes. He paused, thought, and then grinned before grabbing the whole foot and rubbing it against his scrubby chin. The highest pitched squeal vibrated in the basement as Antonio squirmed on his back and tangled his fingers in Tony's hair as if the grip alone would be enough to save himself. "Where's my wrench Brat?"

He got another wild giggle and belly shakes. Tony leaned back in his chair, fingers dancing along the sides of Antonio's chubby belly. "You ate my wrench brat? Huh? You ate it didn't you. Greedy bastard." Of course there was no answer to say otherwise. Not yet anyway. Any day soon he was going to start bursting with all kinds of words.

As Tony's hands slowed to a small rest on the baby's thighs, small thoughts ran through his mind like the flash of an old movie. He was growing up fast. So fast. It was . . . hard in a way, thinking back when he'd found the tike bundled in an icicle silk and cold. Tony wouldn't imagine this chucky bundle was the same child. His hair and grown out brown and curly, lightly touching his ears. His skin was a tad darker with beige freckles on his cheeks and two teeth coming through. His eyes were bright as a cup of cool blueberry Jell-O. If turned to the side, well, Tony could see the brat sort of looked like him. Which in any case would only sure the kid plenty of pleasure when he hit puberty because the ladies were going to have a rowdy good time with a new Stark in town.

. . . New Stark.

Tony's lips thinned. Was he ready for that route yet?

Was he ready . . . to be a father?

"I'd say practice makes perfect. So far you've done a well enough job to have an answer by now."

Well, shit. Tony sighed as he pulled Antonio into his lap and swiveled around to find Loki in his favorite sitting place. Right on the hood of his favorite toy, "I'm buying you your own Ferrari. That way you can be responsible for your own ass prints." Leather, armor, green eyes and crafty smile. Same ole Loki. Same ole disturbing imagination taking a rocket trip to the middle of nowhere in Tony's head. He gave himself a wake up shake and faced his newcomer, "Who gave you permission to read my thoughts?"

"I took your self-loathing as permission granted," Casual as a swan rested on a lake, Loki draped one leg across the other, and rested his chin on top of his knuckles. "I never would've taken Tony Stark as the mentally conflicted. Your thoughts are, if one can best describe them this way, a reflective source. You titter on the cliff of uncertainty for Zephyr, so loss in your contempt for past rejections and if that is so, why bother yourself with caring for the lad?"

"You don't have another planet to rape into submission?"

"Uncouth cretin," Loki said lightly. "And here I came to offer my curable company."

Tony unconsciously looped his forearm around Antonio's stomach, drawing him toward his chest, never once breaking eye contact with Loki, "Save your manipulative advances on another toy. I'm hardly turned on. At least take me to dinner before molesting my mind."

Stark was gratified in seeing Loki's bottom lip twitch out of its horizontal line, "Vulgar bastard. I hardly call psychological assistance a way of foreplay." Loki stood, and walked forward. "Are you so limited in your sexual frolics you can't tell the difference?"

Tony mocked a hand over his wounded heart, "Monica didn't think I was so limited last week. Teresa had plenty to discuss of my limited sexual frolics."

Loki's steps faltered. His eyes suddenly closed, head drawn back as a swan bared its neck. Tony was puzzled, curious as hell as to the sudden switch and drummed his fingers across his desk for a wrench.

"You're lying."

Tony paused where he gripped the handle. "Pardon?"

"You lie," Loki opened his eyes, glancing around the enclosure as one would analyze the inside of a little boy's bedroom. "There hasn't been a woman in your home for twenty four days. Your last exploit was a tad longer." His smile grew wider. "Has your libido realized immortality belongs to Gods?"

For once when Tony opened his mouth to speak he had to close it. Why had he even bothered? Lying's never been his forte. He's never had a reason too. With the riches of the world, and good looks, what excuse was there to bed a woman whenever he wanted or talk about the vacations he took? And hell, damn near the whole world knew he was Iron Man.

Then there's this guy. The master Liesmith of the entire galaxy who's ability to interpret deception was unbelievably accurate. Damn. Tony reached up to massage the space between his eyes. His headache was steadily creeping into place again. "What's it to you who I sleep with and don't?"

"Simple speculation."

"Right do better. What are you doing here? We haven't set up a meet yet."

"I'm aware but is one really necessary for a chat? Perhaps I only wanted your company." Before Tony knew it Loki had stopped and kneeled next to his chair, hand leisurely lifting to draw a soft line on his forehead. "Is that really so bothersome?"

The next moment happened in silent awe. Tony's mind reeled for several images, some he couldn't recognize and many more jumbled in an assortment of colors. He vaguely remembered Loki doing this before months ago. Some of his mind was still intact enough to reach out for Loki's wrist and snatch it away from his face. "Don't touch me."

Loki's expressions went from surprised, impressed and to another much darker look, "Feisty devil, so much fight and fire."

"You have no idea pretty boy."

Loki paused then gave a short laugh, "You will do just fine Tony Stark." He rose to his feet, green eyes sparkling with the crackle of magic. "You'll do." His hand came to palm over Antonio's crown. "Take care of him for me until my next visit. I have more words for you." He said to Tony and stepped back in a swish of black and green.

He was gone and with him the answers to Tony's suspicions.

When he reached up to touch his temple, sure enough the headache was gone.

Just like last time. Just like before.

Tony had to wonder as his mind fasted. Was Loki the cause of his migraines or the cure?

"Jarvis."

"_Yes sir."_

"Take that off the record. Store it in Triple O-X. Figure out his signature." Loki was getting too comfortable for Tony's tastes. He needed to think of a way to keep the man out without hurting Antonio.

* * *

It was around three in the afternoon when Tony's company arrive. Bruce walked from the elevator, glasses gleaming from the overhead spotlights and hands twittering around his plaid shirt and briefcase. He gave the living room a quick once around as if by sight alone he could foresight the next cause of million dollar damages.

"You owe me," Bruce said to Tony coming upstairs from the basement. "I mean it. I want a new lab and a bigger house. You took me away from a trip to Brazil because you have a headache?"

"Not just headaches—stop it," Tony poked Antonio's belly for drooling over his fists. "They're insane. I'm fine for a few hours then they come in rapid intervals. I can't get a lick of sleep in here." He met Bruce halfway into the foyer and sat on the couch. Antonio was placed on the cushion beside him to play around with a pillow.

"Has there ever been a time where you wanted sleep?"

"Three to five hours is recommended in my book. Any more than that and I'm likely dead. But really, can you help me out or Hulk it up?"

Bruce sat adjacent his teammate, unclamping his briefcase to pull out a 1cc syringe, a vial case, stethoscope, a pair of blue latex gloves, medical masks, some lubricate jelly, aqua sonic ultrasound gel—which made Tony's eyebrows vanish in his hairline—and various supplies unnecessarily a simple house call.

"How bad you think it is?" Tony questioned.

"Honestly? Pretty bad if you interrupted my trip," Bruce chuckled lightly, cupping the stethoscopes on his ears. "No, I'm concerned you've let them go on this long. Several months of migraines? I'm surprised you haven't raised hell in Harlem. Why the sudden care in your health?"

"A certain Captain threatened a lecture if I didn't give you a call. I'm thinking, either sit there and watch the captain's pretty lips recite the Constitution or come to you and make you miss your flight."

"You're right. You didn't have a lot of options. Sit up straight."

Tony straightened his back, chest poked out. Antonio stared at him and did the same thing, or tried too. Tony smiled small, "Little shit."

Antonio smiled two tiny teeth, "Mm."

"Breath in, breath out. Repeat that." Bruce moved his stethoscope speaker from side to side, listening for any oddities or blockages. He checked Tony's back and came back to the front. He checked his stomach and besides the usual gurgles, came up short. "Circulations are steady. No kinds of thick masses." Bruce circled the table for his syringe, a sperm cup and a urine cup. He squatted down, wiping alcohol on Tony's forearm before sticking and drawing back a sample of blood. He slapped a band aid on and held out the cups. "Here, piss in this and cum in this. Do I need to go through the proper protocols for cleaning your dick before action?"

Tony grinned shittily, "Are you offering Bruce?"

"Not even if the last vagina had crabs."

"So much for humanity. Watch the kid for me will ya? This won't take long."

"So I've heard."

Tony shot an ugly glare before shutting the door of the bathroom.

In the meantime, Bruce went about busying himself with setting out a small heart monitor, electro pads and nerve pulse devices. The last one was set up and placed on the side of the table when he heard Antonio's sudden squeal. His blue eyes went absolutely brilliant with glee as he bounced and wiggled on the couch, clapping.

"What's gotten into you little guy?" Bruce laughed. He checked the direction the kid was looking and saw nothing. He shrugged and went back to setting up his gear.

Tony came out, both bottles in hand and the other rubbing circular motions on his head.

"Those headaches?"

"Yeah."

"Let me see." Bruce walked to him and gently placed his index and middle finger tips on the sides. He rotated several times, searching for the throb. Curious, he made a thinking sound in the back of his throat and raised his tips to Tony's forehead until he found the vein. Sure enough he pressed it and Tony flinched. "Yeah, definitely migraines."

"No shit," Grunted Tony. "They started about a minute ago."

Bruce took the cups and placed them inside his Fluid Examination Kit, tilting each fluid in its rightful compartment and shutting the top over it until the testing was complete. Bruce had a mysterious gleam in his brown eyes as he glanced from Antonio to Tony, firstly noticing the matching white t-shirts and stone wash jeans, then something else. "I want to check something. Go sit there."

Tony did as asked, propping down next to Antonio and picking the child up.

Bruce took note of that, cocking his head to the side. "How are you feeling?"

Tony frowned, "Fine." Then he thought about it. "The pain's subsided but only a notch. I still feel it throbbing."

Bruce walked up and took the baby away. "How's about now?"

A dull roar began to pulsate behind Tony's eyelids immediately. So much so, his hands started clenching and opening in his lap. Antonio grew restless and held out his arms for Tony. Tony took him back, chest heaving slowly and relaxed. It happened in the span of two minutes. Bruce stored the information for later examination. A sharp chime pierced the suddenly quiet room. Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets. Tony stared up at him, fingers flexing over Antonio's belly. "Is it that obvious?"

"As an elephant in a box. It's hard to say whether this is an extraterrestrial side effect. You being around him so much could trigger this reaction. Has there been anything else going on? Body wise I mean."

"Nothing. I doubt it's the kid's fault. He's been around over a year. The headaches came months later."

"Still they came at all. You've never suffered migraines. Why now? It's similar to medical diseases," Bruce removed his eye glasses to clean a small smudge. "Some side effects don't occur for years before a sudden component gives it that boost. It's hard to say when it comes to alien life. We're not exposed to their genetics enough to know whether we're immune to anything they carry."

Tony stood with Antonio pressed in his neck, patting his back. "You're talking like the kid's some kind of AIDS strand. We checked his vitals, he doesn't have any diseases, he was sick, and we cured him, end of story."

"Sick with a luke cold. That's not what I mean Stark. Antonio's producing some kind of physical reaction. You haven't put him down since I arrived. I found it stranger still when your headaches subsided when you picked him up," Bruce carefully placed a sympathetic hand on Tony's shoulder. "You've noticed. You're not stupid. It's abnormal for most possessive parents to carry on as you do. Even they'd leave a child unattended for several minutes but you lasted two."

The patting on the baby's back slowed to a stop, "So you're suggesting I get rid of him?"

"No, give yourself some space to see what happens. His very essence could be living off you or worse yet, creating a suitable parent to benefit his needs."

Tony shrugged Bruce's hand away, "Have you lost your mind? The kid's barely got a toe out of his mouth and you're saying he's mentally molding me into Super Dad?"

"Not consciously, no." Bruce said patiently. "It may be what Jotun's children do. I don't know. There's a lot we don't know. But I can only give an observational analysis until I do some more testing."

Tony thought about it and found his defenses deteriorating, especially for the baby. He knew the first time when Loki tried to take Antonio away that something was amiss. He'd nearly gone into a bitch fit and relaxed when Antonio was placed back in his arms. The feeling was foreign, but one he couldn't deny. "So the brat's manipulating me?"

"Not consciously," Bruce repeated. "But it could be a possibility." He would try for future tests on this later. For now, he had to check on the results of the fluids. The blood, urine and semen came steaming softly from the case in a micro hisses.

Tony settled flopped down on the couch, dragging his hands over his face. His mind was boggled, deeply confused and terribly troubled. His face was suddenly squeezed on the sides and when he looked, Antonio was wobbly standing on his thighs. "Mmm," he mumbled, smacking Tony's cheeks. His favorite part seemed to be his goatee, rolling his squishy palms over and giggling at the hairy tickling. Tony grasped his fingers in his.

The size was so large in difference. So little. How the hell could something so harmless possibly be turning his brain to rubble? Antonio seemed to guess his thoughts and started to laugh. Tony smiled softly, and curled his finger under the baby's chin, "Who said you could fuck with my head?" Antonio hummed as his chin was stroked and back was rubbed. "Crazy shithead." Chuckled Tony.

Bruce said something too soft for Tony to hear and asked if he'd repeat himself.

"I said your blood count's regular, but your temperature is two degrees low. Not in a danger zone but keep an eye on that. And," Bruce scowled closely at the readings printing from the back of the kit. He ran his fingers through the curls in his head. "Your estrogen level's high. So is your sperm count. Anywhere from less than a milliliter to six or seven milliliters is considered normal. But you're sporting a full herd."

Tony chuckled, "I'm God's Adam. I'm supposed to reproduce with every Eve till I get it right."

"I'm surprised you don't have a whole football team. One drop could easily impregnate a hundred women." Bruce gave Tony a strange look. "And that'd be on the first try. Here it's reading estrogen growth abnormal. A collaboration of testosterone and estrogen. It's a literal WW3 in your crotch and the lady half's winning."

"So you're telling me I'm a transvestite?"

"What? Huh? No, just listen. I'm serious Tony this is interesting. Low sperm counts are explainable but it's rare for any man to produce nearly eleven milliliters. Combined with this estrogen I'll be careful of what you eat and who you sleep with." Bruce started packing his supplies in his briefcase. However when he finished one small syringe remained in his hand. "I'm gonna need one more sample from you and Antonio before I leave."

"Alright."

Bruce took more blood from Tony but when it came to Antonio the little tike raised hell. He fought and tried to hide inside Tony's shirt when Bruce finally pricked his arm and retracted the blood. And damn did that child wail. "I'll give you a call later for more tests. Take care of yourself until then." Bruce left Tony to mend the baby's broken spirits and a massive headache that Tony was sure had plenty to do with the baby this time.

* * *

'_My patience thins as the days pass. I've yet to retrieve my promised throes master.'_

The night and come at last. On top of a neighboring skyscraper, Loki stood watching through the transparent panels of Stark Tower as the human within walked back and forth rocking Zephyr in his arms and sharing a smile rarely witnessed by anyone. It was peculiar. Loki's eyes lowered the more he studied the bond developing. His magic burns and thrashes within like the spouts of a spoiled child. Sight alone is barely sustaining the creature's needs.

Mere touches will only fulfill so much. Loki figured as much when he touched Tony's brow. The strike of warm through his hand was extraordinary. Never had he felt such a splendid brilliance come from such a touch. Satisfying his magic's wishes came with benefits. It'd gotten to where the desire to touch Stark was as nagging as his magic's voice in his mind.

'_Watching does nothing for me master. I want him now. Don't you see? He yearns for me. His mind is troubled and his body recoils in illness._'

'_And here they think the boy is the cause,'_ Loki chided displeased. '_The human is my brother's support. If they keep assuming so, Zephyr may be stripped from him. I cannot allow that. He's bonded with him and your interference is highly disconcerting. You're burdening his life.'_

The creature growled, pacing back and forth as if waiting for the key to unleash him. It flapped its wings, ringlets of bronze, gold and indigos fluttering around its form. '_A touch. I want a touch and I'll offer another sample. The same you desire.'_

'_Spare me the commands. I was already on my way,'_ Loki bent his knees and leapt forward into a spurt of inky black.

He landed on the veranda, highest on Stark's Tower and circled around. The panels were spaced around. The living room was empty, the lights dimmed down. Loki scoured the outer rim for a moment before venturing to the higher up to where Tony's bedroom resided. He stepped back against the wall, eyes peeled into the dark bedroom. Zephyr was sleeping. Loki waved his palm, aglow with the tint of green and a vanishing halo liquefied over the crib. The tiniest spell to keep the child napping just long enough to accomplish what he needed to do.

Stark was asleep. For once, Loki mentally mused and stepped through the glass panels. He flicked his wrist. The comforter and thin sheets gradually peeled from the bed and Stark's body. He bore only a pair of red silk boxers and a black wife beater. Shivers snaked through his body the rakes of a feline's claws. Loki's eyes danced in silent appreciation as he took in firm lines navigating over lean muscular planes. The glow of blue taunted and winked from beneath the cotton like a guiding beacon. Loki vanished and reappeared next to the bed's edge. His palm pressed against Stark's forehead, feeling a generous portion of magic in his mind to keep him sleeping.

This would only be a moment, but he had to get what he could from him. Loki shifted his right hand to glide light as feathers down Stark's chest to settle on stomach. The movement scorched like molten gold. It was tantalizing. Loki sort more and gently guided Tony's shirt up with airy commands of his fingers until the slightly haired chest and stomach became visible.

His body seemed to radiate like a furnace. Stark's body was aged with a sleek, muscular undertone, well defined in all the right places. Loki's hands twitched like he could control the urge to squeeze and take his time traveling across the open span of skin.

'_More master. I must have more.'_

Loki licked his lips, _'I've done enough to satisfy your wants. Surely you can wait another night.'_

'_I cannot,'_ the creature snapped wistfully. '_He's here and open. A small taste will carry me until a fortnight. It doesn't matter where.'_

Loki grimaced, '_Until a fortnight you say? So long a time and with a small stroke of my tongue?'_

'_Yes and I'll grant so much in a single setting.'_

'_I see,' _Loki bowed his head slowly, eyes skating everywhere he saw and the heat of Stark's body warming his face. The scent of him was gratifying. Loki found a piece of Stark worth trying first and dipped his head down. His lips puckered around a brown nipple and suckled. The effects to follow were overwhelmingly instantaneous. Every nerve in Loki's body blistered and scorched with the blaze of a thousand suns. "Yes," This was the power Loki savored. Lava pooled in his gut and flew through his veins before making a return trip to his groin. He flicked his tongue, rolled and masterfully tugged the nipple between his teeth.

The hand on Stark's brow rose and fell. Stark stirred despite the magic's effects. Loki's eyes trailed up to the quiet face and the lips lightly parted. He licked long and Stark reacted with a stiff grunt.

Interesting.

Loki breathed softly across the tawny peak and watched Stark's lips perk on the edges. Another lick commenced and the same reaction followed. Loki soaked the nipple red and toyed with the hairs present with his cheek before leaning away, face split in half. A faint red blotch painted over Stark's chest. That's fine. Let his mark be left.

That was absolutely invigorating. Every fiber of Loki's body electrified tenfold.

Loki curled his finger across his lips, "I'm not finished with you Tony Stark." The creature purred long and hissed and swayed like a drunken Cobra, fully sated at last.

But Loki wasn't sure he was.

He took his palm away from Tony's forehead and stepped away, dissipating in a wisp of black. There will be another night to follow. So many more.


End file.
